Pirate Conqueror
by Cindy Snowflake
Summary: Harry's decided he's conquered enough in his own world so he goes to the Dimensional Witch for a new one. He ends up in the world of One Piece where there are adventures galore and a certain intriguing red-haired pirate. Super!Harry EventualSlash
1. Prologue

**A/N: Welcome! Especially to my author alert followers, finally the day has arrived that I'm posting my alternate version of Pirate Potter.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter or One Piece in this chapter and all chapters following. Plz to not sue - kthxbai**

**Prologue**

Harry Potter, green-eyed, black-haired, Savior extraordinaire of the Wizarding World stood silently on the grounds of Hogwarts. It was not yet dawn and the young man was staring up at the fading stars through his thin-framed spectacles, his black robes and cloak billowing softly in the morning breeze.

In a few hours the witches and wizards of the United Kingdom would wake up to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the fall of Voldemort. Harry glanced down at the ritual circle he had carved around his feet – it would be best if he left before anyone saw him.

Wielding his wand, he softly chanted, his magical focus releasing streamers of white light spelling out an archaic language as it spilled from its master's lips.

There was no dramatic flash of light. Rather, the glow of the words and the ritual circle collapsed upon Harry, leaving nothing behind as the magic dissipated in the morning mist.

The flash came with Harry's arrival as his feet landed on stone steps in front of a building with traditional oriental architecture surrounded by skyscrapers. Judging from the position of the sun, it was mid-afternoon here and the pale Englishman was grateful for the shade the shop cast over him.

Pushing the door open with a gloved hand, a small bell chimed lightly to alert the shop owner of his presence.

The place looked like a cluttered antique shop dumped its wares in a thrift store. Piles of goods were scattered on tables, countertops, and on the shelved walls, some obviously valuable while others looked quite tattered.

From around the corner two children skipped over, hand in hand, expressionless but wide-eyed.

"A customer," the red-headed one stated.

"Yes, a customer, how exciting," echoed the one with blue hair.

Harry stared down at them, bemused. For some reason, he didn't think they were really children. As a matter of fact, he was quite sure they weren't human. Humans went catatonic without a soul, as demonstrated quite often by victims of the Dementor's kiss.

"Don't just stare," a female voice called out. "Welcome him."

"Welcome," the two small beings chorused, faces lighting up with cheeky mischief.

Harry smirked at their adorableness. "Thank you," he replied.

"Welcome, indeed," came the woman's voice again, drawing closer as it paired with the light padding of bare footsteps. "Welcome to my shop, young wizard."

A Japanese witch glided into the room, long, layered black hair streaming down her back, accenting her tall and slim figure clothed in a simple autumn themed kimono. Her lightly painted face showed an age much younger than her power indicated to Harry's magic, but perhaps that wasn't too surprising considering just who she was.

"My, my," Harry shook his head, "what a striking image you present, Dimensional Witch. A pity the surroundings do you no justice," he nodded at a precarious tower of tea cups, the top one of which chose that particular moment to topple over and crash onto the floor. Raising an eyebrow when the cup failed to shatter, Harry bent over to pick it up. Not a crack.

"I do not clean," the shop owner stated imperiously.

"Not even with magic?"

She pouted.

"I see," Harry chuckled. "The power to travel between dimensions and across timelines, yet not a single cleaning charm in your arsenal."

The woman swept her hair back fluidly with her right hand and moved the conversation along.

"You aren't here to compare spells, Master of Death. This is a shop for wishes and I am here to grant yours."

"For a price, right?" Harry clarified, continuing to examine the tea cup. He released tendrils of silky, white magic from his fingertips that swirled through the vessel's walls and flowed upwards tinged with colors and patterned with textures.

"Normally I'd agree with you," the witch sighed, eyeing the swirls of magic with interest.

"Normally, Ms. Witch?"

"Call me Yuuko," she smiled, "and yes, normally. However, your wish has already been paid off by a power from your world. You didn't really believe that your title is merely the mark of a simple collector, did you?"

Harry chuckled. "I must confess, Yuuko, it didn't occur to me that collecting the Deathly Hallows would grant me a wish of any sort."

"It doesn't grant a wish; this is a repayment," she explained, pulling out a long, elegantly decorated pipe from her sleeve and subtly lighting it with a spark of magic. "Tom Marvolo Riddle was written down to die the night of your second Halloween but Death failed. You later succeeded where he did not, which isn't quite so rare an event in and of itself. However, you had already claimed your title beforehand, thus the action was done in the name Death as his Master, and Death became indebted to you."

A long exhale of smoke swirled around in delicate clouds and streaks in the air as the witch gazed out a window with a serious expression on her face before turning back to glance at Harry, a cheeky little angle of the head highlighted with a knowing smirk on her face.

"How, _lucky, _for you, that things happened as they did."

"Lucky, so lucky!" twittered the soulless children as they skipped circles around the conversing magicians.

Harry snorted. He flicked his wand and sent a stream of water into the tea cup. Immediately, the liquid darkened to an amber color and steam rose from it.

"You are a believer in fate, then?" the wizard asked, taking a sip from the cup with a pleased expression. He had been quite happy when, after deciphering the imprinted magic, he found that the object's main purpose was to transfigure any liquid placed inside into tea. It would certainly be useful against any future poisoning attempts.

"And you are not?"

"Forgive me if I prefer to delude myself into believing that not everything in life is destined. After my life, it's easier to think I have incredibly bad luck than to blame a higher power. I might go insane with an obsession for vengeance. Now, what is this wish that has already been bought for me?"

Yuuko gave into the changed subject with another puff of smoke before wandering through the room, searching. From under a large pile of clothes, she tugged out a small metal talisman and walked back towards Harry, ignoring the small avalanche she triggered.

"This," she explained, "is a one-way ticket to a new world. The magic necessary to activate it will have to come from you, however. Dimensional travel is a very expensive wish, so I'm sure you'll understand that I can only supply you with the bare basic means."

"Not a problem," Harry replied, accepting the trinket and weaving a thread of magic to conjure some twine for it before pulling it over his head like a necklace. It was a very simple metal circle, engraved with a triangle with small symbols overlaying the corners: an eye, a shield, and a crown.

"Can you tell me anything about this world?" Harry asked.

"Well now…" Yuuko hummed, "shall we do an information trade? I am not expecting any more customers today."

"What do you have in mind?"

"That cup," Yuuko pointed, "how did you know what it could do?"

"This?" Harry asked, staring down at the now empty tea cup. "It was a gift, one of many, to loosen the constraints on my magic. Neutral magic has a tendency to take on the affinities of magic it encounters. Once it does, it is merely a matter of reading the resulting colors and textures in order to know what spells and enchantments are present on the object or in the area of your interest."

"You didn't gain it through a ritual?" the witch inquired hopefully.

"Afraid not," Harry replied, "it's something that can only be given from person to person."

"Pity," Yuuko sulked, "if it were from a ritual I could give myself the same ability. As for your question, it is a world without magic. Instead, people are born with a power called Haki that is unlocked and harnessed with the strength of their will and ambition. The Color of Observation allows one to sense the presence of others around them and, when properly trained, can be used to size up an opponent's strength and predict their movements in a fight. The Color of Armaments hardens its user's body for obvious defensive purposes but also with devastating offensive possibilities. The final form, the Color of the Conquering King, is gifted to only a select few and is a means of imposing one's will on others. Creatures with simple minds can be tamed and humans with weak wills can be knocked unconscious with this unique form."

Yuuko took another puff from her pipe and leaned against the wall, a leg extended out from the slit in her kimono to rest on a cluttered table.

"Why did you wish to leave your world?"

Harry refilled the tea cup with a silent Aguamenti. "There was nothing left for me there."

"Oh yes," Yuuko smiled, "the Man-Who-Conquered. Rather appropriate, considering just how many you conquered in the mere five years after 'graduating' from your magical education. So it was fear that led you to me, fear of your own power left unchecked in a world where humanity ran out of problems to label evil. Fear that you might become what you fought against. Am I right?"

Harry peered over the edge of the tea cup as he drank, eyeing the revealed leg appreciatively as he hummed noncommittally in reply.

"The world you are going to," Yuuko continued, "is mostly ocean with scattered islands. On the seas sail merchants, marines, and pirates. One ocean, known as the Grand Line, circles the globe and is filled with the supernatural. In particular, one can find Devil Fruits there which grant its consumer a change in his or her body in return for a connection to the sea that drains the person's strength when in a large body of water. The change covers a wide range of possibilities, such as the ability to change into an animal fully or partially, the ability to change their body into an element which can be used as a weapon, or something as random as the ability to create swamps or ghosts or bubbles."

"How strange. And it's not magic, you say?"

"No," the witch confirmed. "Shall I continue?"

"I'd rather you didn't, actually," Harry admitted, walking closer to Yuuko. "It won't be quite as fun if I don't do a little a exploring of my own."

Yuuko chuckled. "There'll be plenty to conquer."

He drew nearer to the beautiful woman, bypassing the swirling smoke.

"So long then Yuuko, the Dimensional Witch who cannot clean."

"I'll have a maid in a few more years," she retorted.

"Oh? Then, until that foreseen time comes, Ms. Seer," Harry teased, before leaning over and stealing a kiss as he activated his necklace and disappeared.

"What an arrogant little boy," the Dimensional Witch observed.

"Arrogant, so arrogant!" chimed her dolls as she crouched down to give them both a kiss.

"Now let's see," she thought aloud, eyeing the empty room before her, then taking a peak at the storeroom now neatly stocked with all her goods in organized compartments. "I suppose this is payment for the kiss. As for the cup he took with him," she reached out to grab a scroll from a shelf. From her fingertips swirled silky white magic that flowed through the parchment and coagulated on the other side a mess of black and red tangles. "Such a nice gift. It will certainly make inventory much easier from now on."

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it :) Uber thanks go to my beta, Indifferent Nobody, for all her help fixing grammar/spelling mistakes and pointing out places that aren't as clear to the reader as is clear to the writer.**

**It's June, 25, 2011, and the story begins!**


	2. Chapter 1: New World

**A/N: Hey guys! Hope you like the chapter :)**

**Chapter 1: New World **

'Well now,' Harry thought to himself. 'This is rather clichéd, isn't it?'

As soon as the medallion activated, Harry found himself flying through a tunnel of spiraling lights, not unlike how science fictions movies in the Muggle world depicted wormholes.

'Then again,' Harry admitted to himself, 'this whole going to another world for a second chance is a pretty clichéd event too so it's only right that the trip there match appropriately.'

Magic drained steadily through the dimension traveler's necklace as he enjoyed the surreal view, the minutes ticking by, when suddenly, just as he was reaching the literal light at the end of the tunnel, a green ball of fire rocketed towards him. Instinctively, Harry forced the perceived threat away, resulting in a brief but tense struggle until the metal piece resting over the wizard's collarbone – open to outside power while conducting Harry's magic – forcibly absorbed it. The dimension tunnel collapsed and Harry Potter landed in the waiting arms of a purple tree.

Muttering a few choice curses under his breath in varying languages, Harry dropped out of the tree and took a look around.

While the forest looked like it was conjured by Albus Dumbledore in the throes of a psychedelic dream with its vibrant colors and twisting shapes, the village in the distance seemed normal enough. It was a small port town, looking reminiscent of a scene he once glimpsed on the television while vacuuming. Dudley was watching a pirate series and later complained to Vernon that he had trouble hearing the cannon-fire between ships over the sound of the vacuum. Vernon was not pleased with Harry.

But the current situation was fine with Harry. The British Wizarding World wasn't exactly living in the modern times either, so this shouldn't be too difficult to get used to.

A wave of magical fatigue crashed upon the wizard and he grimaced. The strange green fire seemed contained within his necklace and there were no other issues requiring his immediate attention, so Harry pushed himself onwards into the village. He'd rent a room at the local inn and pay with some conjured cash later. In the morning, when his magic recovers, he'd be able to do much more in the way of learning and exploring this new world.

Harry woke before dawn the next day, dressed with a quick spell, and frowned at how weak it made him feel as he exited the room. Last night's quick translation charm with a bit of personal charm directed towards the land lady was tiring, but that was to be expected after being drained to power inter-dimensional travel. He was shown to a room less than ten minutes after his introduction as a wandering adventurer and was too grateful to ponder the issue further.

Now it seemed that magic came significantly less easy to him in this new world, and the recharge period was also extended if the ghostly ache in his muscles was any indication. He hoped he'd be able to adapt to this handicap in time for future altercations. For now, small spells shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Gliding down the stairs and out the inn, Harry breathed in a refreshing lungful of morning air. Glancing around at the quiet streets, he watched a few of the shopkeepers – the baker, butcher, and grocery store owner – set up shop. Smiling pleasantly, he smoothly moved towards the baker across the street.

"Good morning," Harry called out cheerily.

The baker looked up from the small stand he was filling with fresh loaves of bread with a slightly surprised expression.

"Good morning to you too," the man replied. "You're up quite early. I don't believe we've met before; are you new in town?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, "I'm taking some time to explore the world a bit while I still can." He leaned over under the pretense of examining the baked goods. "It smells good. What have you got?"

"Oh, I mostly just display the bread loaves outside this time of year to attract the sailing merchants looking for something to take with them on their journey."

"Sound policy," Harry agreed. "Have you been in this business long?"

"Oh, it runs in the family," the baker explained, "most shops in our village do."

As the man explained the history of his town, eventually moving on to local gossip, Harry listened intently while slipping a hand over the baker's pocket and summoning the man's wallet. A silent duplicating charm later, Harry banished the wallet back into the baker's pocket and slipped the duplicate into his own.

"Well, it was good talking to you," Harry stated in a clear attempt to end the conversation. "I think I'll stop by later to buy something for breakfast."

"I'll look forward to it," the baker smiled in return. "Please enjoy your time in our town."

"Oh I will – it's a very charming place."

Walking away with a polite wave farewell, Harry examined the contents of his pick-pocketed prize, making sure to use a color-changing charm to disguise the wallet. Inside were bills marked with varying numbers and the word "beli". Assuming that was the currency around here, either the baker was very rich – highly doubtful – or the beli to galleon exchange rate was very low.

"Good morning," Harry called out to the butcher who was hanging up racks of meat inside the display window.

The butcher grunted back at him.

Not a very social person then. While sometimes it was advantageous to make friends with the loners, he didn't plan on staying in this town very long so Harry moved on.

The grocer was a middle-aged woman, stacking apples and pears in pyramids. A slight push with a conjured gust of wind and a few apples toppled off, rolling to a stop at Harry's feet.

"Oh!" the grocer cried in surprise, turning around to follow the fleeing produce.

Harry bent down and plucked the three errant apples, presenting them to the grocer with a warm grin. "Here you are, ma'am."

"Thank you, young man," the grocer smiled, retrieving the apples and wiped them off with her apron before placing them back onto the pyramid. "I don't believe I've ever met you before?"

"Ah, yes, I'm just a visitor traveling around for some fun."

"How wonderful," the grocer exclaimed, "the delights of youth! I remember when my husband took me out for sailing trips during our dating months. Such pleasant memories," she sighed, before grimacing. "Well, almost all pleasant."

"Did something happen?" Harry asked with a concerned tone of voice.

"Oh, I don't want to bother you with the stories of an old woman, especially so early in the morning, really," the woman explained in an embarrassed rush, puttering around the shop, absently picking at the displays to look somewhat busy.

"I don't mind, ma'am. Nothing quite like a story told in a pretty voice to start the day."

The woman blushed. "Now see here, young man, flattery won't get you everything."

"Will it get me a story?" Harry teased with a smile.

The grocer sighed, folding her hands in front of her on her waist, resting in the folds of her dress. "Why not? It's not much of a story, really. It's just, once, while we were sailing, Jacob, my husband, was feeling a little daring that day and we went out farther than usual. On our way back, three rowboats of a local pirate crew cornered us and stripped us of all our possessions but the bare necessities of clothing. It was terrifying and incredibly embarrassing when we managed to make it home. To be honest, we were lucky to survive."

"Indeed," Harry agreed, "thank goodness for that."

"Yes, well, if I didn't already dislike pirates, that incident certainly settled it. That's why it's been so disturbing these past few days."

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

"Oh? You don't know?" the woman asked. "Five days ago, a crew of pirates docked at our port. They're very famous – supposedly they're not the type to attack civilians, but it's still very worrying. I'm anxious everyday for the night they'll up and leave while robbing us all. I've heard terrible stories of outlaws burning down whole towns after pillaging them simply for the fun of it. Frankly, I'm quite grateful they'll be leaving today."

Harry gave an honest frown at that. He'd seen some pretty terrible things in his life, the past three years especially, and he had to agree that burning homes and screaming children were very unpleasant sights.

"Famous for being peaceful pirates, you say?"

"Oh no, not peaceful, no," the grocer clarified, "I don't think any pirates are peaceful. You'd have to be somewhat willing to get violent to defy the World Government and claim a Jolly Roger flag. These pirates, though, claim to only fight those who pick a fight first, which would usually be other pirates and the marines."

"Huh, that's unusual. Nice of them, but unusual. Who are they?"

"They call themselves the Red-Hair pirates because their Captain, the pirate Shanks, has uniquely vibrant red hair."

Harry grinned at this. He highly doubted anyone's red hair could make an impression on him anymore when compared to his mother's or the Weasleys'.

"Well, thanks so much for the chat, ma'am, but I think I'd best leave you to your work now."

"Oh, of course, listen to me, nattering on. Please do drop by later. My produce is always fresh, and a healthy young man like yourself could benefit from some to supplement whatever it is they serve at that inn you're staying at. Don't get me wrong, I like the inn keeper very much, but she just doesn't have the time to cook anything fancy, you understand?"

"I'll keep that in mind, ma'am," Harry promised. "I'll see you later."

A crew of pirates that left civilians alone? What a fascinating idea! He'd have to confirm it, of course – it'd be naïve to just trust rumors, but otherwise that sounded like the perfect place to search for his first adventure. He sauntered down the dirt road towards the dock and took a good look at the ships. There, just peeking out from behind a rock formation, Harry saw a tall mast with a fluttering black flag. So there was the ship. As for the crew…

Harry raised his nose and took a long sniff. The scent of alcohol floated on the salty wafts of sea air. The tavern would surely be the best place to search for a crew of sailors, especially if they were pirates.

Walking into the building, Harry picked his way across the floor littered with sloshed pirates towards the bar where a single man wearing a straw hat and a coat hanging from his shoulders was still conscious enough to continue drinking, spitting out random verses to old sea-shanties between gulps and hiccups. It was rather amusing. Almost cute.

"Bartender," Harry asked, "how much for a glass?"

"150 Beli a pint, good sir."

"Two glasses then," Harry ordered, eyeing his neighbor's now empty glass as he dug out 300 Beli from his new wallet and smacked it down onto the counter. "One for us both, please."

When the glass tankards were delivered, Harry pushed one over to the man in the straw hat, under which he could now see some red hair of decent length. Perfect.

"Well now," the man exclaimed over Harry's offer, "that's awful nice of ya! A toast then!"

The two clinked their glasses and took a long gulp of their drinks.

"I'm Shanks," the drunk pirate introduced himself, surprisingly still coherent, "captain of this here sissy crew that can't even hold their liquor proper!"

"Harry," the wizard replied, "and I assure you, I can hold my liquor just fine. Have to say though, I don't normally start my day with a pint."

"Start?" Shanks blinked confusedly. "Heee, it's dawn already?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Should I take that to mean you've been up all night and that my drinking partner's likely to pass out soon?"

"Probably, probably. Not to worry, my first mate'll keep you company when it happens."

"He's not lying on the floor like the rest, is he?"

"Naw," Shanks downed the rest of his beer. "Beckman's the 'sponsible one – don't drink much. He'll be coming in any minute now to kick the men out of the building. Just nipped out for a fresh pack of cigs."

As predicted, the bar door opened shortly after to reveal a tall man with long black hair chewing on a cigarette. Harry turned back to ask the pirate captain if this was indeed his first mate only to see the man, once again as predicted, passed out, his head on the counter, a small puddle of drool already forming beneath his cheek.

Harry chuckled and nodded at the man coming in. "Good morning. Beckman, is it?"

"Morning. I am indeed," Beckman replied around his cigarette, raising his long rifle to the more prominent position of resting on a shoulder.

Harry smiled at this subtle threat. "I'm Harry. You're captain is a very entertaining drunk."

The pirate chuckled. "And unfortunately very cranky during the inevitable hangovers."

"I don't envy him for the one he's bound to have after a night like last's if the condition of his crew is any indication," Harry offered, eyeing the men that Beckman was starting to rouse, nudging a few of the ones on the floor with a foot and smacking a couple who managed to stay in chairs with his rifle. The room was soon filled with the moans and groans of pirates who didn't appreciate being awake at such an early hour with pounding headaches.

Harry finished his beer and placed the glass back onto the counter with a small tip before rising from the stool and heading out.

"Give your captain my greetings."

He had seen the crew and captain – who was a promisingly friendly drunk. Now it was time to check out the ship up close. Possessions could reveal a lot about a group's activities.

**A/N: Yeah, I know, it's kinda familiar to my readers of Pirate Potter, but I couldn't help it, drunk Shanks is just too fun :)**

**Artemis: Thanks for the review! As for the name, yay! Cindy is short for my name too, except no one calls me that except my high school Statistics teacher and my Chinese relatives. I hope you liked the chapter :)**

**And yes, Pommyth, and fully agree that there needs to be more of this fandom. Pity I haven't the time to flood the place myself.**

**Thanks once more to my awesome beta, Indifferent Nobody!**

**12 reviews today, July 2, 2011. Happy Independence Day soon!**


	3. Chapter 2: Joining a Crew

**A/N: Welcome back :)**

**Chapter 2: Joining a Crew**

The ship was beautiful from above. Unfortunately, Harry magic hadn't recovered enough for him to fly any decent length of time so he floated down and landed gently on the deck. Honestly, it was a bit frustrating not to properly enjoy the view and he regretted not having a broom, having rather foolishly not anticipated being too drained to fly without one. He figured, though, that it wouldn't be too bad to just sit in the lookout crow's-nest later. For now, he'd look around at the weaponry, treasure stash, and map room. If the crew never went anywhere interesting, there'd be no point in tagging along!

He hoped that wasn't the case. Before flying over, he had doubled back to the inn, buying some apples and a loaf of bread with his magically counterfeited money and paid the bill for his room in anticipation of leaving with the pirate crew today.

The cannons were easy enough to find. As expected, several were lined up and tied down next to the port holes down below. Locked doors were bypassed with a few simple Alohamoras, revealing storage areas for food, water, and an almost disappointingly compact stash of treasure that was, amusingly, packed together with barrels and bottles of alcohol of all kinds.

To find the map room, the wizard had to unlock the doors on deck, revealing objects that confused and intrigued him in equal measures. It was no doubt the navigation center as the wall held a large and crude map of the world, which he studied –such a strange geography – and a desk where fountain pens, protractors, and a few astronomy books were scattered. What confused him was what filled the upper half of the bookshelves.

Seven shelves, labeled "Route 1, Route 2, etc…", were filled with a strange object Harry didn't recognize. Small glass orbs held in stands similar to hourglasses with compass arrows suspended inside the balls.

The labels across the top of the stands helped a bit – "Alabasta, Boin Archipelago, Yukiryu Island," he read the labels aloud to himself in between bites of apple. Each of the strange objects apparently was a compass directed at a certain location, though Harry had no idea how something like that was possible; especially since the arrows were currently all spinning around at varying speeds, refusing to point anywhere for long.

Harry moved down to look at the books and scrolls on the lower shelves instead. He flipped through a few books of myths and tall tales before as well as peaking at a few hand-drawn maps of the strangest looking islands (Cactus Island was a series of circles within circles that Harry saw from a side-view sketch represented bumps like those that grow out of the heads of cartoon characters) before managing to deduce that all the compasses were for locations in a single ocean, known as the Grand Line, which circled the globe like the equator back home.

At this point, Harry heard an increase in waves splashing against the ship, followed by a series of thuds from incoming rowboats and the rowdy voices of pirates. The wizard quickly placed the literature back on the shelves and apparated himself to the crow's nest, grimacing at the noticeable pull the action had on his magical core. He'd likely end up exhausting himself by the end of the day with his plans to awe the pirate crew into letting him tag along.

Unless he stayed hidden until after departure? Harry cracked a disillusionment charm over his head, confident that with the vast blue sky as a background, he'd be invisible. There was something thrilling about the idea of being a stowaway.

The choice was taken from Harry when the pirate captain's eyes, bloodshot but otherwise clear from signs of alcohol consumption and drowsiness expected in one who drank the last night away, rose to gaze at Harry in confusion and anger.

"What do you think you're doing on my ship?"

Harry was startled, though he took care not to let it show. How had the man known he was there? A hand came up to the medallion around his neck as he thought back to what Yuuko told him about the powers in this world. The Color of Observation, which allowed a person to sense the presence of others. Did this pirate possess that power?

Harry dropped the charm and swung his feet over the railing of the crow's nest to sit upon it, his legs dangling like a child and a friendly grin on his face contrasting with his black clothes billowing darkly in the breeze. A difficult to interpret image was very useful in delaying violent action from potential enemies.

"I'm looking for an adventure," Harry replied, cocking his head to the side like a questioning puppy. He finished his apple and vanished the core with fake sleight of hand before suddenly and silently apparating half a foot behind Shanks, wrapping his arms around the pirate captain's shoulders and leaning his face in against the man's ear. "Perhaps you could point me in the right direction?"

Immediately, half a dozen pistols were cocked and pointed at his head and another dozen blades were drawn from the sheaths of tense pirates in the embraced captain's crew. None, however, made any movement to draw nearer. Some, no doubt, worried that the strange man's close proximity with their captain made any potential attacks too dangerous. Others, it seemed, were content to watch their captain deal with the upstart and were merely prepared as a show of strength.

Harry approved. He was quite curious as to how this strangely friendly man could survive so long as a pirate sailing to so many different places, all the while maintaining a peaceful reputation among the civilians and, Harry eyed the wanted poster nailed into the mast of the ship, earning such a ridiculous bounty issued by the World Government.

He wondered briefly if this meant this entire world was united under a single government system when he was brought back to reality by the shaking of shoulders within his arms.

"Dahahahaha!" the man laughed, easily breaking free from Harry's loosened hold to turn and look at the mildly bemused wizard with a grin and cheerful eyes. "An adventure, eh? I suppose I owe you for the drink, yeah? You tag along with us long enough and you'll have an adventure beyond anything you can imagine before the month is out."

Harry gazed up the scant inch between their eyes at the face, tracing the laugh lines and open expression. The man was quite handsome in a wild, rugged fashion, without excessive muscles and a carefree outlook on life. Also…

Harry traced his fingers down the man's arms, licking his lips unconsciously when he felt muscles that within seconds became infused with a strange power which first hardened the flesh before thickening to the point where his fingers were forcibly pushed a full centimeter away from the skin. Color of Armaments. This man was also powerful and dangerous.

"I'd like that," Harry agreed.

"Wonderful!" Shanks exclaimed, clapping an arm around the shorter man's shoulders to look back at his crew who were still standing at various degrees of readiness to attack. "Let's give, uh," he furrowed his eyes and tilted his eyes to look back at Harry sheepishly. "I say, what's your name again, kid?"

Harry chuckled. "Call me Harry."

"Let's give Harry an adventure he'll never forget!"

The crew roared with approval, many of them drawing near to thump enthusiastically on Harry's back before continuing the loading of goods onto the ship.

Harry fingered the talisman resting on his collarbone as he accepted the pirates' welcome good-naturedly.

'_Man-Who-Conquered…There'll be plenty to conquer,' _whispered Yuuko's voice.

Harry licked his lips again, this time with anticipation and he glanced back at Shanks, Captain of the Red-Hair Pirates, and carrier of a half-billion Beli bounty.

'I think,' Harry thought to himself, 'I've decided on my first conquest.'

"I hope you don't mind sleeping with the crew," Shanks said, showing Harry the sleeping quarters where hammocks hung from posts arranged like bunk beds at a military camp. Harry could only assume that hammocks were safer to use when on a rocking ship. "They can snore quite a bit, but you'll get used to it eventually."

"Not a problem," Harry reassured him, "I used to attend a boarding school, and I can assure you my roommates were heavy sleepers and loud snorers."

"A boarding school?" Shanks enquired. "Really? What was that like? We don't have any academics on board this ship, though Beckman's a genius – self-taught himself loads."

"I'm not an academic in the traditional sense," Harry tried to explain, a bit unsure how to address the issue of his rather unconventional education in something that didn't exist in this world. "We didn't learn maths, or any science except astronomy. We wrote essays and read books in a different language than the one you use and I never pursued higher learning after dropping out before my last year."

"A different language?" Shanks asked, leading the way to the kitchens as the conversation continued. "That's incredibly rare. You say all of you used this other language? What island did you live in? I've probably only encountered two or three islands isolated enough that they spoke a different language from the rest of the world."

Harry mentally narrowed his eyes. The pirate was not completely successful in asking his questions with the proper degree of flippancy. He didn't seem aggressive or fearful, merely excited, but anticipatory in a way that suggested one of the few other languages he'd encountered before was significant to him in a way beyond just being a rarity.

"Well," Harry answered, "we used a language called English. Have you ever heard of it?" he asked, bypassing the question on his origins.

"'Fraid not," Shanks replied, "though I'm sure my first mate will be interested. Beckman is pretty quick at picking up new languages – he's almost always our translator those few times we needed one to communicate."

"Alright," Harry agreed, "I'll bring it up with him."

'I wonder,' Harry thought, 'if I should try to teach him Parseltongue as well.'

Harry held in his snickers at the image his idea conjured – a tall, serious pirate blowing spittle between his teeth as he tried to imitate Harry's sibilant hissing.

"Ah, we're here." Shanks pushed open a door and the two walked into the kitchen where a muscular bald man was seated before a large barrel, peeling potatoes. "This is George, our chef."

George glanced up and grunted, never stopping his potato peeling.

"Lighten up, George," Shanks grinned.

"Of course, Captain," came the bland reply.

Shanks just laughed and gestured towards Harry to follow him back out.

Outside the kitchen, Shanks knocked on the next door over. A faint "come in" floated out of the door before Shanks pushed his way in. A thin but stern person was sitting inside by a desk, lifting weights in one hand as he sifted through a bag of mixed herbs with the other. Looking around the corner, Harry could see a few beds laid out deeper into the room.

"This is our doctor, Freddy. He'll take care of diseases and any injuries from fights with marines and other pirates."

Harry nodded, inwardly wondering if he should infer anything from the fact that the infirmary was next door to the kitchens.

Freddy stared at Harry, shifting slightly so his revolver was visible from the inside pocket of his vest. "Should I give him a check-up, Captain?"

"Nah," Shanks shook his head, "he looks fine. 'Sides, Beckman always gets first dibs on the rookies."

"Beckman hasn't seen him yet? Then by all means, go on."

"Will do, Doc Freddy," Shanks nodded, laughing at his subordinate's wrinkled expression of disapproval over the name.

"Now to find Beckman," Shanks said, scanning the deck, "there! Oy! Beckman, come talk with the new guy!"

Beckman turned, a cigarette still prominent between his teeth, leaning against his large rifle.

"Captain, does this mean you'll direct the crew through the anchor raising?"

"Aw, come on Beckman, they know what they're doing!"

"It's just as well," Beckman sighed. "Come on then, Harry," Beckman greeted, "we'll have you situated in no time. What has the Captain told you so far?"

"He showed me the sleeping quarters, the kitchen, and the infirmary," Harry listed, ticking them off his fingers, "and said you'd be interested to know that I speak another language."

Beckman raised an eyebrow – to Harry's never-ending jealousy as he could only ever raise both – and chuckled. "Surprisingly thorough, for our Captain. Let's do it all again, though, so I can fill in some in some details and maybe you could explain a bit what you mean by another language."

Harry acquiesced and the two passed the day smoothly as Beckman assigned a specific hammock for Harry, explained the meal times and how serving worked, and gave an overview of how a ship worked.

In return, Harry impressed Beckman with the sophistication of the English language, complete with a written form and historical textbooks.

"So you can both speak and write this English language?"

"Yes, it that so surprising?"

Beckman shrugged. "Other than the language we're using now, I've yet to encounter another language that evolved to having a complete written form except an especially ancient one that has already died out. How old is English?"

"Er, I'm not sure," Harry replied, "several centuries I believe."

"Would you mind teaching a bit of it to me? Languages are a bit of a hobby of mine."

"Sure, er," Harry reached into his larger pocket and summoned his copy of the Beedle Bard tales from the horcrux hunt, careful to slide it out so that it appeared like a simple book kept in a relatively large pocket and not one of dozens floating in the bottomless space within the mouth of his enchanted pouch. "Here, it's a fairy tale book. If you like, I could spend the next few days reading and translating it with you."

Beckman grinned, carefully accepting the book and flipping through, captivated by the strange markings that were so similar yet so different from one of the writing styles used by his own language. "I'd appreciate that, thanks Harry."

Harry laughed, waving the thanks off. "Not a problem. Consider it my thanks for being so easy-going about all this. Your captain is a strange one, inviting strangers to have adventures aboard his ship."

Beckman quirked an eyebrow and gave a chuckle himself. "You're quite strange as well, asking infamous pirates to show you an adventure. I hope you're prepared; men have gotten white hair simply listening to the stories of our exploits."

"You needn't worry for me," Harry assured him, "men have gone bald when listening to mine."

The two laughed, teasingly exchanging quips and jibes about the effects of their storytelling.

**A/N: And there's that! Thanks again to my beta, Indifferent Nobody.**

**Araceil and shroom847: Thanks :)**

**Annabelle: If this chapter doesn't answer your question, then allow me to be direct and state that I fully intend on making this Harry/Shanks slash. Wish me luck!**

**22 reviews today, July 9, 2010**


	4. Chapter 3: Meeting People

**A/N: Welcome back :)**

**Chapter 3: Meeting People**

Harry woke early the next morning and carefully flexed his wand arm, feeling for the current condition of his magic. The phantom soreness still haunted his muscles and Harry frowned. There was barely any improvement from how he woke up yesterday. He'd have to lighten up on the magic use for the next few days and carefully observe his condition.

As it wasn't quite light out, and likely no one was awake yet except the night lookout, Harry slipped his medallion off from around his neck to observe it. Unless dimension traveling resulted in hallucinations, he had trapped a strange green power in the trinket two days ago and he was curious as to what it was.

The power had burned like fire, though to be honest, Harry didn't think it was really going to attack him. In his life it was simply safer to ward off or contain potential threats and ask questions later. Now was later, but Harry felt pretty clueless how to ask questions of a – as far as he knew – non-sentient green fire currently hijacking a metal talisman for a body.

It felt somewhat familiar though. Perhaps, when his magic returned fully, he'd risk trying to channel a bit of the power outwards for a closer examination. For now, he'd leave it alone.

Getting up, Harry wandered out of the sleeping quarters, confident that none of the pirates would wake at the sound of his light footsteps over the noise of their snores. The night lookout was up in the crow's nest, squinting in the light of dawn. Walking farther, Harry noticed that George, the cook, was already up and again peeling potatoes. Harry stifled a snort. It seemed that George was always sitting on a stool in the corner of the kitchen, peeling potatoes, except for when he was serving a meal.

Knocking lightly on the open door, Harry walked in, smiling when the pirate glanced up and greeted him with a grunt.

"Can I help with anything?"

George looked up fully at this with a skeptical look on his face. "Why?"

"Well, I haven't been assigned any chores yet. I'm up and have nothing much to do until Beckman's free later on. I know nothing about sailing but I can peel, chop, slice, dice, skin, and gut."

After a few seconds pause as George considered the offer, he pointed to a drawer next to his head. "Grab a knife."

Harry shuffled through the drawer before picking out another small paring knife like George was using before pulling up a rickety stool. Sitting down before the large barrel and taking off his gloves, he picked up a potato and started peeling, letting the silence settle between them as they worked until it was time to prepare breakfast.

George stood up first, setting down his paring knife at some unknown signal as he moved to the counter to uncover several large bowls of rising bread dough.

"Should I keep peeling?" Harry asked.

"Don't bother," the cook answered gruffly, lifting a mound of dough and dropping it into a bread tin before shoving it into the oven.

"Do you need help with breakfast, then?" Harry continued, choosing not to be bothered by the sharp reply.

"No."

"Alright then," Harry responded, finishing up one last potato before setting his own paring knife next to George's and putting his gloves back on his hands. "See you later then."

Harry heard a grunt in return as he left the kitchen and he smiled. It was a good start if he wanted to be friendly with everyone aboard the ship.

* * *

><p>"Where would you like to start?"<p>

After leaving George to cooking breakfast, Harry explored the ship a bit more. Unfortunately, very few pirates were awake at the early hour and he didn't want to distract the lookout. The lookout had an underappreciated but incredibly important job to do and it would be remiss of Harry to make light of that fact by trying to chat with him.

Instead, the wizard stretched his legs with a walk around the deck, enjoying the sea air and the soothing, rocking motion of the ship before answering to the breakfast bell along with the rest of the crew who groggily rolled out from their hammocks in the pursuit of food.

Harry ended up eating with Beckman and asked if he would like to start the English lessons, receiving an enthusiastic agreement in reply.

"Let's go to the navigation room. I use it mostly as a study room anyway and the crew knows to find me there during the days I'm not on deck."

Harry followed the first mate to the room he had discovered earlier with the bookshelves of strange compasses.

"Are these all the places you've been to?" Harry asked, gesturing to aforementioned objects, labeled with locations, their arrows still spinning wildly.

"Hmm?" Beckman asked, turning his head in the direction Harry was pointing. "Oh, yes, our Eternal Poses. The collection is far from complete, but we have a few Log Poses too, so it's only a matter of time," he explained, a satisfied look on his face.

"Why aren't they flat circles like compasses? Wouldn't that make them easier to store and carry around?"

"But then we wouldn't know when to go or down, would we?"

Harry stared. Up or down? What did he mean by that? Surely there weren't islands underwater or in the sky? How would one travel to such places even with spherical compasses?

Beckman chuckled at Harry's dumbfounded expression. "Perhaps you'll get to see for yourself someday – maybe even aboard this very ship. For now, would you please?" He handed over the book Harry gave him back to the wizard.

Harry accepted the book with a nod, and opened the book. Between the pages were sheets of paper where the first chapter of the book was copied, neatly, word for word. Harry smiled at the sight. Beckman was a scholar, despite his lack of formal education and his status as a pirate, and it reminded Harry of Hermione for a moment.

"You might as well hold onto your copies. That way I can read the first fairy tale and you can follow along without us needing to crowd over the book," Harry offered, handing the papers back.

"The Wizard and the Hopping Pot," Harry read aloud in English before saying it again in Beckman's native tongue. The pirate slowly attempted to repeat the phrase, not entirely successful, and made notes on his copied pages as Harry corrected his pronunciation and translated each word individually.

The first page proceeded painstakingly slow. Eventually, as the story grew more interesting, less time was spent taking notes, or repeating the phrase, or correcting Beckman's pronunciation, or translating the individual words. Though Beckman didn't seem to tire of the work, there were no complaints when Harry eventually finished the rest of the story by reading a paragraph aloud in English and repeating it translated.

Harry never felt more grateful for translation spells. Watching Beckman really emphasized just how tedious it could be to learn another language.

Setting the book down, Harry stretched out his arms over his head, arching his spine until it cracked before collapsing back into the chair with a satisfied sigh.

Beckman chuckled and lit a new cigarette after setting down his pen and papers.

"To lunch then?"

Harry agreed, and the two went to lunch, after which they parted ways, agreeing to continue the next day. Beckman had a few first mate duties to attend to for the afternoon, so Harry wandered around a bit, weaving through the pirates napping on the deck.

Eventually, he came upon a middle aged man with white hair and a scarred face going through martial arts forms on the back deck, his bared upper body lightly coated with a thin layer of sweat.

Harry watched for a moment, intrigued by the unfamiliar style. Eventually, the pirate completed the form, released a deep breath, and locked eyes with Harry.

After a pause, the man spoke up. "You might want to warm up as well."

Harry cocked his head to the side. Was that a challenge, or a warning of danger approaching? Either way, this was a rather nice opportunity for a physical spar. He scrunched up his robe sleeves, activating the enchantments that melted the fabric, leaving his arms bared. Folding and scrunching his battle robes here and there, the wizard triggered similar enchantments until he was left in a sleeveless top over his under-armor and long trousers tucked into his boots.

"Any particular reason for this?" Harry asked, stretching out his limbs and removing his glasses to place them in a pant pocket. They were mostly useful now for the charms on the lenses rather than correcting his eyesight. He had fixed that three years earlier with muggle lasers. He noted with amusement that the pirate was completely unimpressed by the magical display of his morphing outfit and was merely standing there, waiting, expression blank.

"We've got about an hour, likely less," came the reply, explaining nothing but probably everything there was to know. Harry knew people like this before, those who could anticipate the need to prepare for battle before any true indication of the need, though he had always assumed it was a passive form of magic. Perhaps this man had a unique form of the Color of Observation?

"Well then," Harry replied, "do you mind? It's been a long while since I've sparred with an opponent of an unfamiliar school."

Wordlessly, the two settled into their starting stances, examining their opponent and breathing calmly.

Harry started the attack with a forward lunge and punch. He wanted to see the general response the pirate had to provocation and was pleased to see a hard defense of an arm raised to block followed quickly by a counter-attack. While he personally favored the softer defensive choice of dodging punches, it was easier to get his blood flowing hot by throwing and blocking offensive body blows.

Harry grabbed the returning punch and pulled sharply to the side in an attempt to throw the pirate off balance, turning his body with the movement and raising a knee to kick from behind. The pirate, however, lunged into the pull, maintaining control over his body and loosened Harry's grip on his wrist with a harsh palm blow to the wizard's shoulder. He turned out of the range of the incoming kick and jumped backwards.

The two once more stood separately, breathing slightly heavier, Harry rubbing his bruised shoulder and rolling it back a few times to make sure it hadn't dislocated.

This time, Harry stood his ground, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. After a tense minute, the pirate stepped forward and swiftly fell to the floor, kicking his leg out in a large arc with the intention of sweeping Harry's feet from beneath him. Harry jumped boldly forwards over the leg before crouching down like a large cat and lunging deeply with his entire body to pin the pirate's body to the floor. He managed to grab an arm but was forced to release it when the pirate used the momentum of his sweeping kick to spin his body around and pull away.

Not giving up the chase, Harry spun his own legs around, hooking one of the pirate's arms and pulling it out from underneath him. The pirate regained balance quickly by shifting his weight onto the other arm and finally back onto his legs, but Harry used the pause to draw nearer and grabbed the outstretched arm, yanked it behind the pirate's back, and threw his entire body weight into pinning the heavier man onto the floor.

The pirate, anticipating Harry's intentions, managed to draw a knee up before being pushed into the wooden planks and used the limb as leverage in combination with his greater body mass to push back at the wizard and throw him off.

Feeling the muscles ripple and coil defiantly in the pirate's back and arm, Harry let go, choosing to retreat back a few more steps and gain a few seconds of preparation for the next attack rather than risk injury by being thrown by the physically more powerful man.

This time around, Harry slipped into the style of fighting he preferred of swift movements and silent dodging. It wasn't the best style for sparring since his attacks consisted mostly of neck chops and kicks to the back of the knees – before he killed the receiver during their moment of weakness, but he was infinitely better at using his reflexes to avoid attacks than using his muscles to block them.

The fight's progression instantly slowed to a standstill with Harry's decision to change his style of attack. The previous three minutes seemed like something completely detached from the following fifteen where Harry continuously dodged the pirate's flow of attacks, the wizard unable to attack and his opponent unable to land a hit, the two dancing in erratic circles around the deck.

They were finally forced to a draw when the lookout gave a cry.

"Marine ship off the starboard quarter!"

The two fighters mutually and silently stopped their spar to gaze across the ocean in search of the enemy ship, Harry following the other man's lead as he hadn't a clue what "starboard quarter" meant. From their position on the back deck, they could barely see over the right side of the ship two vaguely ship-like silhouettes in the distance, about a half-hour away.

"Impressive," Harry murmured, referring to the pirate's previously stated prediction.

"The Captain likes surprises," the pirate spoke up, answering the unspoken question of why he didn't warn everyone else of the approaching attack, "and the men like their sleep."

Harry laughed. "I hope you don't mind keeping me up to date at least."

The pirate ruffled his hair, showering the deck with speckles of sweat. "The name's Roller. We'll do this again next week." And then he left, presumably to get his weapons for the fight with the marines or maybe even a shirt.

Harry canceled the enchantments on his robes with a few sharp tugs. He didn't like the idea of going to battle without his battle robes and its assortment of protective charms. He slipped his glasses back onto his nose and summoned a belt of throwing knives from his pockets that he tied around his waist.

Satisfied he could defend himself without too much active magic use, the wizard walked off in search of Shanks. It would probably be a good idea to see what the pirate captain's policy was when dealing with marine attacks. He'd like to know how lethal his approach should be.

**A/N: Did you like? Marine battle next chapter! Thanks again to my beta, Indifferent Nobody, and thank you to all my reviewers and alerted :) **

**I wonder, how many of you found this story on its own and how many found this story through Pirate Potter? Please let me know!**

**34 reviews by July 16, 2011**


	5. Chapter 4: Fighting Together

**A/N: Hey guys. Sorry about the extra week with no update, but my internship is over now! Yay for more time to write :)**

**Chapter 4**

As soon as the marine ship drew near enough, it began to fire its cannons at the pirate ship. The shots thundered through the air and crashed into the ocean in warning. Shanks, unperturbed, ordered his crew to sail closer, firing their own cannons in response.

Harry sat calmly sipping his tea, unworried by the violent rocking of the ship since his teacup was enchanted to never spill. The pirate captain was merely playing around at the moment, preferring his fights to be a bit more personal than a pair of ships flinging cannonballs at each other. The real battle would start when the two ships were side by side and wooden planks thrown over their respective railings so the men could invade the opposing enemy's ship on foot.

He had already received permission from Shanks to be as lethal or non-lethal as he wished. Since there would be no Rennervate spells nor was this an assassination job, the wizard decided there was no point in doing anymore than necessary. He'd use today's fight to gauge the necessity of killing as well as the relative convenience of either choice.

After half an hour of cannon fire and the marine ship attempting to dodge Shanks' advances, the two ships were sailing side by side, the cannons quiet while the deck roared. Pirates swung from the netting to jump over to the marines' ship while others grabbed boards they had prepared from below the deck and clambered over the makeshift bridges. A few of the bolder marines charged forwards as well, meeting the pirates head on in their fight for justice.

Harry joined the fight eagerly, relishing the shocked looks he received for his strange clothing before a swift palm slamming against their temple knocked them out for the count.

Maneuvering his way onto the marine ship, using his throwing knives to discourage any bright ideas on the marines' part to knock him off the makeshift bridge, Harry quickly located the commanding officer. Under the pretense of a head kick, Harry slipped a bug onto the man's neck as he dodged before slipping away, stabbing a small knife into the man's hand as a distraction for good measure.

The wizard flowed with the battles, allowing the natural patterns of everyone's movements to guide him around the ship. It was interesting to see the style of attack each man employed, many of which were quite familiar to Harry from previous experience in his old world, and others slightly more impressive. The majority of the marine sailors were equipped with a sword, probably mass-produced by semi-decent blacksmiths under World Government employment. The officer he bugged and left behind had a katana and a few of the sailors held pistols.

The pirates were much more varied. Roller had found a shirt before the fighting started and was now soaking it with sweat as he brawled it out with a pair of marines who lost their weapons. Beckman stepped lightly on the railing, using his rifle like a bat to disarm and knock out the waves of marines targeting him as the First Mate. A man he had yet to meet was up in the pirate ship's crow nest sniping with, strangely enough, a pair of pistols rather than a more stereotypical long-range firearm-like rifle. An incredibly large man was swinging his weight around, one hand holding a rack of meat and the other holding a pistol he was using to kill those who managed to stay standing after encountering the pirate's incredibly large stomach.

And the captain?

A clear clang of steel blades clashing rang through the air. Harry, intrigued by how this sound rose above the more common noise of the ongoing fighting, scanned the two ships in search of the sound's origin. On the other side of the marine ship he had just left, Shanks was confronting the marine officer he just bugged.

'That's a problem,' Harry thought to himself with a hint of irritation. 'If Shanks ends up killing the man, I'll have to retrieve the bug and find someone else to tag. Fuck if I know who's most likely to be promoted in the marine's stead.'

With a crack muffled by the noise of the battle, the wizard immediately apparated back to the marine officer and, as the man's eyes widened in shock, knocked him unconscious; Shanks' cry of annoyance echoed in the background.

"There, there," Harry teased with a grin before leaning in towards the irate pirate captain who disliked his battles being interfered with. "I'll make it up to you," he offered before lowering his voice and ghosting a whisper past an ear peaking from underneath the straw hat. "Promise."

Shanks was silent for a moment, caught slightly off guard, before laughing, his bad mood quickly dissipating. "I'll hold you to that, Harry!"

The fighting grew more desperate as the news of their leading officer's defeat spread through the marine ranks. Shanks easily cut through dozens in mere seconds with the fluid movements of his sword, slashing through the enemy sailors who fell with cries of pain and spurts of blood – some lightly injured, others mortally wounded. Harry danced in his wake with his throwing knives, targeting the marines outside of Shanks' sword range to relieve them of their pistols, and some of their lives.

An hour later and the pirates were triumphant. The few marines left conscious were in no condition to beat back the opponent and wisely chose to retreat with their dead and wounded. The pirates, who had no desire to leave marine bodies on their deck, helped discretely by lessening the fervor of their attack and revealing the occasional soldier who managed to fall unconscious behind barrels and in the shadows of the cabin.

When all was quiet but for the clamor of pirates repairing the damage done to the ship, Harry signaled for Shanks and Beckman to follow him to the navigation room

The wizard pulled out a box, about the size of a shoebox – though the dimension-traveling wizard doubting there were any such boxes in this world as civilization here was much farther behind than his own – and placed it on the desk, ignoring the large map that occupied the majority of the space. He pushed his thumb onto the small pin located on the right side before flipping the lid open, revealing a small glass orb filling half the box, the other half holding a series of green oval-shaped items.

Tapping the orb with his right index finger, Harry recited aloud: "The aspiring conqueror's first weapon is hidden information."

Slowly, the orb began to glow, and when the glow started to pulse gently, Harry spoke again: "Connect to Wrackspurt 3."

"Wrackspurt?" Beckman questioned in the pause that followed.

"It's easier to say than Blibbering Humdinger," Harry explained vaguely.

"But blibbering humdinger sounds more fun," Shanks retorted as he stared with childish curiosity at the orb that started to emit a low-pitched tone at Harry's request. "And it hums!"

Further conversation was cut off when a voice snarled from the orb.

"Enough! I'm fine!"

"But Lieutenant, the doctor says –"

A door slams. For a few minutes there was only the sound of footsteps interspersed with salutes of "Lieutenant Rango!" from the sailors that were no doubt scattered in the hallway the bugged marine officer was striding through.

Finally there was the sound of another door opening and closing, followed by the soft click of a lock and a few minutes of quiet breathing.

"What was that?" the marine questioned aloud. "It must have been a Devil Fruit power, but just what fruit could allow its consumer to pop out of nowhere? It seems like the Doa-Door Fruit, but I didn't notice any holes or 'doors' and I'm quite sure CP9 has possession of that one. I can't even imagine anyone stealing from CP9."

"You know more than a Lieutenant is authorized to," came an unknown voice, deeper and scratchier than the marine's, smoothly interjecting Rango's musings.

The swift, high-pitched hiss of a katana being unsheathed was the immediate response.

"There's no need for that, _Lieutenant_." The title was stated mockingly, as if the unknown man believed himself so far superior that such a status was undeserving of the pride most placed upon it.

"A white Den Den Mushi," Rango said in a breathless voice, ignoring the taunting words.

Harry frowned. What the hell was a Den Den Mushi and what was the significance of its white color?

"Your transmission will begin a few minutes," the unknown man announced. "In the meantime, why don't you explain what you meant earlier about encountering a Devil Fruit user?"

A pause.

"It was during my fight with the captain of the Red Hair Pirates. We were locked in a sword battle when suddenly, out of thin air, a strange man wearing the oddest clothes – like black leather bath robes – appeared in front of me and knocked me out. When I awoke the battle was over."

"You fought Red-Hair Shanks?" came the incredulous response.

A snarl. "I would think that an unknown Devil Fruit is worth more attention than a stupid pirate captain!"

Cold laughter. "On the contrary," the unknown man replied, still chuckling. "A man appearing out of nowhere could be any number of things more mundane than a Devil Fruit power – your own carelessness, for example. Red-Hair Shanks, however, is no ordinary pirate. You consider yourself a swordsman, don't you? In that case, it should interest you to know that Shanks visits the Grand Line often to have spars with Hawk-Eyes Mihawk."

Spluttering. "Shichibukai Mihawk, known as the Greatest Swordsman in the world, has spars with that scruffy ruffian and lets him live?"

"Oh? How odd that you don't know of something like this and yet know of the existence of CP9. You are a man of strange priorities, Lieutenant Rango."

"You –" a tense moment of quiet before the subject matter stepped backwards suddenly. "My Color of Observation has a range of three meters! It's not my carelessness that allowed him to appear so suddenly!"

Another voice, crackling occasionally as if passing through transmission. The Den Den Mushi, perhaps? "A Lieutenant with Haki. That certainly is impressive, Lieutenant Rango."

"Sir." Was that a hint of worship in the marine's voice?

"A report of this battle with Red Hair will be expected, of course, as well as a separate report on any information you can obtain about this power you witnessed."

"Yes sir."

"As for the purpose for this call, you are being relocated from South Blue into the Grand Line. It has been decided that you have the necessary skill to survive without an escort, and I certainly hope you will not disappoint."

"I am confident in my abilities, sir, and honored by your trust. I will serve well in the Grand Line for Absolute Justice." Yep, there were definitely some worshipful feelings towards the man calling through the Den Den Mushi. Maybe it was someone of high rank in the Marines? Or even the World Government?

"Indeed. Your first job will be a locate-and-retrieve. Intelligence has picked up rumors of the growth of a new Devil Fruit in an underwater cave offshore of Yappa Island. The type and power is still unknown, but that shouldn't prove an issue since no one will be eating it until after it goes through Dr. Vegapunk. Roy has a log pose for you, as well as an Eternal Pose for Bird Island. Mariejois has been instructed to let you through, although Reverse Mountain will be a much more efficient choice. Your log pose should lock onto Yappa after three days on Bird Island. Please use your time wisely. That is all, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir."

Two dull thuds of items being placed on a table.

"Well, I'm off," stated Roy. "Do try not to get tossed off Reverse Mountain, _Lieutenant_. Eternal Poses aren't so easy to come by."

"Cheh," the marine officer sneered.

Something swung open, lighter and squeakier than the door did earlier when the marine entered – perhaps it was a window? There was a minute of silence and then footsteps followed shortly by the sound of a man falling into a cushioned chair.

"Survive the entrance to Grand Line without an escort. Do they know? Is this a threat, telling me they've noticed my unauthorized forays over Reverse Mountain?"

Tapping of a finger nail, or maybe a pen, is heard against wood, probably a desk.

"It doesn't matter I suppose. I wonder what power this new Devil Fruit holds. Maybe if I play my cards right I will be allowed to consume it after it's been identified. Something to improve my skills with a blade would be ideal."

Talking stopped. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the rustling of papers and the scribbling of a fountain pen or quill. Finally, Harry decided he wouldn't be getting much else in the way of useful information – unless either Beckman or Shanks could translate the sounds of a pen into actual words – and tapped the orb again with a stated: "Disconnect. May the conquest begin."

The orb's glow blinks out of existence and all is quiet.

"Well," Shanks sighs, breaking the silence. "Shall we snatch it?"

"The Devil Fruit, Captain? You're constantly stating you have no intentions of eating one, and the crew isn't interested either. We love the sea too much."

"But Beckman! Just think of the adventure! Stealing a prize from right under the nose of a marine. And I've always wondered what kind of plant a Devil Fruit grows from."

Beckman lit a new cigarette. "You just want a rematch with the idiot who calls himself a swordsman."

"Harry stole my fight," Shanks whined, pouting a little and falling back into a chair.

Harry pulled his own pouting face in return and flopped beside the pirate captain on the arm rest of the chair. "You didn't like my gift of information? Or perhaps," Harry mused aloud slowly, leaning back slightly so that he rested against Shanks' shoulder, letting his head fall backwards on top of Shanks' straw hat, "you were hoping I'd make it up to you with a more physical form of payment?"

A beat. Then Beckman spoke up, as if the short byplay went completely beneath his notice. "We are pretty close to the entrance of the Grand Line anyway, and we have an Eternal Pose to Yappa Island so we have a three day advantage on the marines, as well. Shall I announce it to crew?"

"Yeah!" Shanks exclaimed, getting up and forcing Harry to rebalance himself on his seat now that his backrest was gone. "And ask if Bombay stole the marine sail yet. I'm pretty sure he didn't, so he'll get another chance soon." He turned back towards Harry with a grin. "Your adventure, as promised!"

Harry grinned back and chuckled. "How exciting. I should buy drinks for handsome men more often."

It may have just been sunburn after the long fight earlier, but Harry was quite certain Shanks' skin looked flushed as he walked out the door.

**A/N: Wow peoples, flirting and the start of an adventure - are you excited? I'm excited! Now the problem is execution. I don't think I'll ever be as epic as Oda with his manga, but I have Harry! Mwahaha.**

**Thanks again to my beta, Indifferent Nobody! Love you bunches ^-^**

**one random reader: thanks for the review/reply to my question :)**

**56 reviews as of July 30, 2011**


	6. Chapter 5: Navigating Seas and People

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry about the delay. This weekend I was on a family road trip to the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee and had no access to my laptop. I hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 5****: Navigating Seas and People**

"Oi, men, listen up!"

The pirates paused what they were doing to look at their captain who was grinning widely from beneath his straw hat.

"Once the ship is back in shape, we'll be heading back to the Grand Line. Say goodbye to South Blue, boys. Who's up for a race with our newest marine friends?"

The pirates roared their approval, pumping fists and waving swords, before redoubling their efforts in putting the ship back together.

"Navigator Addams," Beckman called out when the cheering died down enough for his voice to be heard, "please come to the navigation room to set our course."

A pale, thin man equipped with a hammer and nails and standing near the railing waved an arm towards the First Mate with a flat expression, his sunken black eyes blinking slowly in acquiescence.

A moment later the navigator shuffled in, ruffling his dusty hair as he opened the door, ignoring the wizard still perched in the chair who was watching the new person curiously after putting the box of Wrackspurts back into his robes. The man was strangely pale for a pirate, as well as incredibly scrawny. Could he fight at all, or was he just a civilian with a talent for navigation and that had been let on for that purpose? He must be pretty skilled if that was the case.

Beckman closed the door behind him as he entered.

"We're heading to Yappa Island from Route 4, Addams. How fast can you get us there?"

The man pulled out a notebook from the bookshelves and flipped through it rapidly, jamming a thumb in seemingly at random to stop at a certain page.

"Well," the man muttered, "if you just let me use a couple of pirates as bait we could cut across the calm belt by Sea King and I'd have you there in a week."

Beckman chuckled. "That's still a no, Addams. The captain likes his crew intact."

"Cheh, fine," the man muttered, sitting down and grabbing a quill, dipping it into an inkpot with a blood-red liquid and scribbling a series of equations into the notebook. After a moment, he raised his inkpot up and shook it slightly.

"Out of bloodroot, might want to make a stop at Little Garden on the way, then, since the captain won't let me use any of the crew's blood anymore. I should've hidden a marine earlier when I had the chance."

Shanks walked in halfway through the rant and laughed aloud. "Dahaha, still not willing to just store some of the spilt blood from the deck after a fight?"

The navigator glared at the laughing pirate captain. "Blood can only be used as ink when fresh, damned idiot. I've told you that how many times already!"

"Yeah, sure, 'cause it'll koga-late or something."

"Coagulate," came the ground out reply, as more equations were scribbled out until finally the quill left no more marks as it scratched across the page. "Fuck!"

"You can't use your own blood?" Harry finally spoke up. "Or is pain the issue?"

"Pain?" the man wondered aloud. "Yes, that's exactly the problem. You understand so well," he whispered as his breath came steadily quicker in excitement. "Yes, that delicious pain! As soon as I cut into my flesh my mind is cast away from the original purpose and all I can think is to have more torture." He turned towards the wizard with a solemn expression. "It's true what they say, that too much of a good thing is bad for you. I never last long."

"He's a hemophiliac with mild anemia," Beckman explained, "faints from blood loss when he tries to cut himself for ink."

"Why does he need blood anyway?" Harry asked, curious that even a muggle would hold so much stock in the necessity of using such a substance as ink.

"Why blood?" the man exploded in disbelief. "How can you ask such a thing? Blood is the single most fascinating liquid in the world. Its color, its viscosity, its ability to die before your very eyes when you try to contain it in a bottle as if declaring it rather renounce its life than live subdued. The only way to capture it properly is through the thin strokes of a quill or pen upon a page. Writing with blood gives me such a rush! Unfortunately, it's difficult to find a steady, fresh supply of blood every time I need to write, so I stock up on bloodroot whenever possible. Little Garden has the best color – I think it's from the blood constantly soaked in the soil from the battles between those ignorant giants."

"Is Little Garden on the way?" Shanks asked.

The navigator blinked. "Well, not really. We'll lose about three days to swing by."

"Three days!" Shanks exclaimed. "That's the exact amount of time we cannot afford to lose. The marines will stay exactly three days on Bird Island waiting for their log pose to lock onto Yappa. This is a race!"

The navigator glared. "Well there's nothing I can do about that. Either we drop by Little Garden according to the calculations I've already completed or you find me a source of blood so I can make new calculations directly to Yappa!"

"I have an offer for you," Harry interjected, smiling at the strange conversation – honestly, a navigator bargaining for blood to use as ink! – "though the end results will depend heavily on your own self-control."

"Whose self-control?" Addams asked, "Because I don't think he was ever taught the mean of the phrase," he snarked, pointing to Shanks.

"Yours," Harry clarified, ignoring Shanks' indignant cry at the insult. "I have in my possession a very interesting artifact perfectly suited for your needs." From his pocket, the wizard withdrew a Blood Quill. Though he had some rather irritating memories associated with Blood Quills – namely Umbitch – Harry found it useful to carry one on him at all times in case he needed to sign a contract out of the blue; usually a forced secrecy oath with another wizard too nosy for his own good. Without magic though, blood probably had no binding effects like back home so Harry would gladly give it up in a trade.

The wizard handed it over to Addams with a smirk. "Try it out."

Addams raised an eyebrow – and Harry cursed inwardly at the mocking of his own inability to do the same – and replied, "I still don't have any ink."

"Oh, you won't need any ink."

With a dubious expression, the man wrote out his next equation, sucking in his breath as the quill's magic cut into the back of his hand before sealing the wound, leaving no trace except the blood-red writing glistening on the page.

"This is called a Blood Quill, and it's one of a kind," Harry explained before the masochist could get too excited and start scribbling randomly. For a moment, he mentally chuckled at the fact that pretty much everything he carried on his person was now one of a kind in this world. "It draws blood directly from its user, slicing what is written into the hand before sealing instantly. The healing property has limits, however. If you use it continuously for an hour, the bleeding will not stop, and if you write the same thing several thousand times it will eventually scar your hand permanently – hence the need for self-control."

Addams gazed worshipfully at Harry, looking for all the world like a zombie being offered an unlimited supply of brains with his thin, pale face and black bags beneath his eyes.

"In return," Harry continued, when it became apparent that the navigator was at a loss for words, "I wish for you to teach me about the word's geography and some navigation skills. I'm afraid I haven't a clue about how the oceans or islands here are organized, and I've heard there are some incredibly interesting landmarks in the Grand Line."

The man glanced rapidly between the quill and the smirking wizard. "I don't draw world maps," he bit out, licking his lips.

"If details are your specialty, I understand," Harry replied, "but surely a simple sketch and explanation of what most children learn about their world when growing up would be easy enough?"

"Done deal!" Addams exclaimed, and excitedly continued his calculations. The page filled quickly but was mostly unnoticed by the other men in the room in favor of the morbid sight of the skin on Addam's hand opening and closing in a wild, incomprehensible pattern.

"Two weeks," came the conclusion. "Two days to get over Reverse Mountain, a week to cut through Bloom Island, four days to swing around Bird Island – three if we time it well, and a day to sail to Yappa."

"That's our Addagator!" Shanks crowed. "Dahaha! We'll get that fruit first no problem. If the marine's want it, they'll have to take it from us directly!"

The pirate captain left the room laughing in satisfaction.

Harry turned toward Navigator Addams – Addagator indeed – and saw the man pulling out island maps from the shelves and tracing over them with his new quill. Deciding to let the man enjoy his new toy, he followed Beckman out of the room and onto the deck.

"What a frightening item," Beckman commented.

"Painful too," Harry added. "I'm glad to be rid of it. I never thought anyone could enjoy using such a thing, but I guess I just haven't met many hard-core masochists."

Beckman chuckled and lit a new cigarette. "Speaking of meeting people, I noticed you used throwing knives in the fight earlier. Would you be interested in meeting our resident sniper? He usually sets up some target practice right after a battle to test his guns for damage."

Harry perked up at the offer. "I think I saw him during the fight too. He was using pistols, right?"

"Yes, flintlock pistols. Yassop has incredible aim, so the small firearms are surprisingly accurate in his hands. He's probably getting ready on the front deck. He's a bit of a show-off," Beckman smiled, "and the men enjoy the show."

"Brilliant, let's go!"

The pair made their way towards the bow of the ship where a crowd was slowly gathering around a thin man with curly hair and a headband on his forehead with the word YASSOP written across it. He was setting up a few freshly painted bulls-eyes made from broken bits of wood he probably collected during repairs. He had also set up a few tables on which he lined up a series of empty beer bottles.

"Yassop," Beckman greeted.

The man turned around with a grin. "Beckman! Have you come to watch the show?"

"Sure, why not? I brought Harry along as well. He's a knife thrower."

"Really?" Yassop inquired. "How about you strut your stuff a bit, then, Harry? I've got plenty of targets. Let's make a duel of it."

"Oh?" Harry asked with a grin. "I'll take that challenge on."

The pirates cheered at the wizard's acceptance and started a messy chant of "Fight! Fight!" as Harry slipped through the crowd to the 'stage' and helped Yassop rearrange the targets to spread them out a bit more.

"Shall I start us off?" Harry asked.

"Of course! Guests first."

With a flick of his wrist, four knives slipped into each of Harry's hands. He held them for a moment, fanned out between his fingers as he judged the distance before flinging them in rapid-fire succession at the closest bulls-eye, neatly creating a cross. As the knives were flying, the wizard unsheathed a heavier knife with a ring at the end of the hilt and spun it around a few seconds before letting it fly; the blade sunk dead center with a solid thud.

The pirates hooted and cheered in approval at the display as Harry gathered his knives, removing the center one last and twirling it as he bowed to the audience before sheathing it with a flourish.

"Setting the bar pretty high, there. Haven't you ever heard of building up the show into a climax?"

"No worries," Harry replied with a wink. "I've still got plenty more 'building up' waiting in my sleeves. Don't tell me you can't match this?"

Yassop grinned. "Hah! Watch this."

He withdrew both pistols at once, spinning them on his fingers before grasping them tightly, both hands raising up to point in different directions. In less than a minute, every one of the remaining dozen and a half targets had a bullet hole clean through the center.

The cheers were deafening as Yassop pumped his hands into the air in triumph, rousing the crowd with his own shouts.

Harry quickly quieted them down by throwing a single knife into the air and catching it by the blade before tossing it back up and following it up with another. Soon three knives were cycling in his right hand and the band of pirates watched with baited breath for what the man would do next.

The wizard walked up the deck, weaving through the targets before approaching the table with a dozen beer bottles. Striding casually in a parallel line along the table, he threw knives with his juggling hand vertically into the air, replacing each thrown weapon so that he finished with still three knives flying in a circle. To some, it gave the illusion that he had done nothing at all. This illusion shattered when a dozen evenly spaced clinks alerted the pirates to the knives that had slid smoothly through the narrow necks of the bottles to rest lightly at the bottom of the glasses.

Breathless whistling and applause followed this display of casual skill and Harry winked cheekily before vanishing each of his juggled blades one by one with sleight of hand.

"You aren't particularly attached to those knives, are you?" Yassop asked nonchalantly.

"No more than you would be to fired bullets," Harry reassured.

"Good to know," the sniper replied as he raised his reloaded pistols up at shoulder height. The line of bottles exploded into a rain of glass shards in three seconds flat. The last bottle had barely finished shattering when the pistols were smoothly replaced into the belt tied around Yassops waist, the pirate slouching casually like nothing had happened.

The pirates applauded wildly at the explosive demonstration.

Shortly after, Shanks jumped into the target ground from the netting of the front mast where he was watching.

"Sorry to interrupt boys, but we have a pretty nice wind starting. If we take advantage of it now, Reverse Mountain will be just over a day's sail away. What do you say?"

There was some grumbling, but the pirates proved willing and easily scattered to their respective jobs on the ship.

"That was quite a show, Harry," Shanks grinned.

"Thanks," Harry replied, gathering up the targets while Yassop went to fetch a broom for the glass. "Long-range is my preferred method of attack. Although," Harry paused, angling his head downwards so his eyes pierced through the fringe of his hair to lock with Shanks'. "I wouldn't mind getting up close and personal with you."

The wizard walked away chuckling, passing by Yassop who returned with a broom.

"You know, Captain," Harry heard Yassop say; "I've never seen your face color come so close to matching your hair. Everything alright?"

**A/N: Woot! The next chapter won't be ready by this weekend, sorry, but I've got some deleted scenes you might enjoy and I'll post those if you're interested.**

**Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Indifferent Nobody! She's a wonder, really.**

**Laughingoutloud: Thanks for the review! Originally, I meant execution as in my ability to write this story properly, but since you brought up the topic of Ace's execution, I might as well say that I care much less about sticking to canon in this story than in my other. Shanks will still lose his arm, because I think it's an important sacrifice for him, but I'm brainstorming a reasonable way to save Ace's life 'cause I hated that he died and Luffy's not the main character in my fic anyway :(**

**73 reviews, August 9, 2011!**


	7. Outtakes 1

**Outtakes**

**These are two deleted scenes from previous chapters. They are not edited and HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY AS IT IS NOW! Please do not use these scenes as anything but some fun 'cause the next chapter is not ready yet.**

**The beginning of Chapter One**

'Well now,' Harry thought to himself. 'This is rather cliché, isn't it?'

As soon as the medallion activated, Harry found himself flying through a tunnel of spiraling lights, not unlike how science fictions movies in the muggle world depicted wormholes.

'Then again,' Harry admitted to himself, 'this whole going to another world for a second chance is a pretty cliché event; it's only right that the trip there match appropriately.'

Magic drained steadily through the dimension traveler's necklace as he enjoyed the surreal view, the minutes ticking by, when suddenly, just before reaching the literal light at the end of the tunnel, a man dressed in the loose and simple clothing of a sailor walked towards him, blocking his path.

"Hmm," the man hummed, twirling a dagger between his fingers as he leaned casually on a sword, its tip digging into an invisible floor beneath his feet. "This is the first time I greeted a new life coming in through here. I must say, it's a welcome change to all the squalling infants I deal with normally. Most of them have such very boring lives I wonder why I bother gifting them at all. Such a waste."

Harry eyed the man carefully. Despite the bold colored clothing and solid weapons, the being was a manifestation of a Power, nothing real in the sense of someone Harry could fight. Not that there would be any need to attack. Powers, having only muted human emotions and a jaded view of life after existing for the entirety of their world's mortals, usually had no interest in harming humans. Thus, Harry wasn't too worried about his helpless state of being, though it certainly put him on edge.

"Well?" the Power demanded. "Are you going to explain yourself?"

A tinkling laughter showered the two, sparkles appearing as if the musical notes themselves were solidifying before they coalesced into the form of a beautiful woman with flowing blond hair and glinting blue eyes.

"There's no need to be rude," she said. "Though," she continued, turning towards Harry this time, "you certainly are no great example of etiquette; leaving without even having the decency to say good-bye."

Harry had the good sense to look chagrined. "To be fair," he explained, "I didn't know until rather recently that I wouldn't be able to find you again after the trip was already made."

"Poo," the woman huffed. She returned her attention to the man who was looking on with amusement, twirling dagger forgotten in the presence of the strange relationship between the mortal and a Power. "Hello again, Haki."

"Magic," the man acknowledged. "Are you not still ignoring me?"

"Well I couldn't very well leave my precious child in your hands without a word," she replied, glaring back at the grinning face. "He deserves the best. I won't have you shuffling him on his way with your usual cheap double deal."

The man snorted. "My cheap double deal? And who exactly is it that picks and chooses the people to give a gift to at all? Seeing as he's a foreigner, I'm not sure I want to give him anything, let alone the Color of a Conquering King."

"This boy is the epitome of a conquering king! I'll bet he kicks every one of your pet projects' arses!"

Harry laughed. "Magic, I think you're spending too much time in Hogwarts if your language has started to include British school-children insults."

The female Power sulked. "I wouldn't have needed to argue at all with the Kudan."

"The Kudan are a collective Power with only their one world to watch over. They can afford to gift whimsical travelers that come and go."

"For what it's worth," Harry spoke up, "I don't plan on doing any going."

"Of course not," Magic scowled, "you're probably looking at Haki now and drooling in your mind, wondering if any of the inhabitants of the world can offer the same. I know your type Harry; scruffy dress, lanky but muscular body, cheeky grin and a fiery temperament." She blinked rapidly, sniffling a few times before exploding into wails. "Why?" she cried, "First you leave me and now I'll never have cute little Harry's and Harriet's to look forward to doting on! Stupid Harry! Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

"There, there," Harry murmured, hugging the sobbing form close. "For what it's worth, I think you're far more attractive than Haki."

She hiccoughed. "That just makes it worse, knowing you're still attracted to women. What with this world being full of marines and rebel pirates, I have no doubt you'll end up choosing a man regardless." She wiped her eyes that gleamed with new rage. "I'm going to give Death a piece of my mind! How dare he choose this world for you! If he had just picked a nice dimension of vivacious young women there'd be no problem!" She whirled around and pointed a finger at Haki. "You, I'm still mad at you, but you'd better take care of my Harry!"

Finally, with a whirl of her dress, Magic exploded into a cloud of sparkling dust and dissipated.

"I wonder," Harry pondered aloud, "as Master of Death, should I have stopped her?"

Haki released a bark of laughter. "I'd rather you didn't. As pathetic as it sounds, this was the best time I've had since the days of Gol D. Roger."

"Oh? Does this mean you'll do as she said and grant me all three powers?" Harry asked. "Because to be honest, I think I'll be fine even without. Magic often forgets her own past generosity to me."

"Don't be ridiculous. It would be terribly rude to refuse a good gift to the master of a fellow Power. You'll get your three colors."

"Well, then, thank you, I suppose."

"You suppose," he repeated, then pulled the sword from the ground and walked off. "Welcome to my world, Harry Potter, and may you grant me many days of entertainment in the coming years."

**The beginning of Chapter Five**

"Oi! Men, listen up!"

The pirates paused what they were doing to look at their captain who was grinning widely from beneath his straw hat.

"Once the ship is back in shape, we'll be heading back to the Grand Line. Say goodbye to South Blue, boys. Who's up for a race with our newest marine friends?"

The pirates roared in approval, pumping fists and waving swords before redoubling their efforts in putting the ship back together.

"Navigator Addams," Beckman called out when the cheering died down enough for his voice to be heard, "please come to the navigation room to set our course to Yadda Island."

Slowly and creakily, the hatch to the ship's hold rose, hovering slightly at a right angle before falling open with a hollow thud. The pirates paused to watch intensely as silence hung in the air for a second, then two, then three, then in a flash, a hand shot upwards from the black hole, its fingers posed in a clawing position commonly shown in bad zombie movies.

The hand slammed flat upon the deck and a body pushed itself upwards. It was a man, skeleton-thin, with dusty brown hair and sunken black eyes. Raising his head, the man peered around him, expressionless, before an eerie grin grew across his face revealing sharpened canines and blood-red gums. The other hand rose from his side, holding a small dagger. The man began to casually toss and catch the blade, eyes still held upwards towards the pale-faced pirates.

"Is anyone kind enough to donate some blood? One drained body should suffice for my next map, I believe."

A shriek rose into the air, soon eclipsed by another's horrified cry that finally identified the monster.

"Run for your lives! The Addagator has risen!"

Pirates scattered in all directions, including upwards along the netting, seemingly too frightened to realize they were essentially cornering themselves into the isolated masts. Then again, perhaps it was the smartest choice as "the Addagator" was showing little interest in climbing anything, choosing instead to pursue the grounded men with loping strides, hair sticking up in a crazed fashion.

In mere minutes an unfortunate soul was captured and brought to the floor with a heavy pounce, his cry of surprised muffled by the thudding of the two's bodies.

His prey caught helpless between his legs, the Addagator brought his dagger up high before slamming it down into the bared throat.

Quiet.

After the blade was shifted slightly, blood began to leak steadily onto the wooden planks, but instead of pooling around the area, it spread outwards in a collection of threading rivulets.

"Our current location," the Addagator spoke in a mystic voice, and the blood smoothly formed the image of a ship. "To Yadda Island." The blood obeyed and drew a series of islands and other geographical landmarks before the bloody ship sailed its way through them, stopping or speeding forward occasionally to avoid the occasionally "storm" and leaving behind a smeared trail of blood to mark its path.

Finally, the ship arrived at its destination. After half a minute, the blood began to fade away. The Addagator removed the dagger from his victim's throat with a grunt, revealing an injury-free neck and an alive, albeit coughing harshly, pirate.

Doctor Freddy was already ready for him with an IV drip and a gurney.

"Well done, Navigator Addams," Beckman praised as the pirate was wheeled away.

"Not a problem, Beckman! 'Tis my job, after all," came the cheery reply. The Addagator descended back through the hatch, and the door slammed shut behind him.

"What a quaint little ritual," Harry commented.

"Very useful," agreed Beckman.

**A/N: Well, that was fun :) Hopefully, next week I can post Chapter 6, but I hope you enjoyed this.**

**90 reviews August 13, 2011**

**Help me break into the hundreds?**


	8. Chapter 6: Sailing and Sparring

**A/N: And we're back :)**

**Chapter 6: Sailing and Sparring**

Reverse Mountain was a sight to see.

Or at least Harry thought it would be, through the fog. The sky was dark despite the fact that the sun rose two hours ago, and it looked like a storm was perpetually brewing in the area. The wizard wondered if it would start pouring before they get there. He hoped not as it was difficult to make exciting memories when the atmosphere was all dreary. He had nothing against rain – it was stereotypically nostalgic of the United Kingdom after all – but colors were just duller and details blurred in the rain which even a pensieve had difficulties clearing up.

"Well, Addagator?" Shanks called out. "Will it rain today?"

Navigator Addams scribbled a few equations as he crudely measured the clouds' movement and the rocking of the ship. "It'll start thundering in about an hour, Captain," he concluded.

"Awesome!"

Harry raised his eyebrows in interest. "Do you like the rain?"

"Of course!" Shanks replied with a grin. "There's nothing quite as dramatic as a storm when approaching Reverse Mountain. Sometimes I wish I had a Visual Den Den Mushi to record it all, with the lightening flashing and the thunder booming, rain falling so thick you can barely tell where the sky ends and the sea begins."

"How incredibly poetic, Shanks. Did you hit your head earlier?" Harry teased.

Shanks scowled and stuck out his tongue in reply.

"Well, it's not that rain wouldn't be welcome, I suppose," Harry concluded, "since I'm pretty sure you're the type that would look incredibly sexy when soaking wet. By the way," Harry continued, ignoring Shanks' gaping expression, "what are these Den Den Mushi things I keep hearing about?"

Shanks continued to gape, but now for a different reason.

"Kami-sama above, is that home island of yours a cave or something? You must have lived under a rock to have never seen a Den Den Mushi."

"Well," Harry started, "does a castle built of ancient stone count?"

"Really?" Shanks asked excitedly. "That's so cool! You have to take me there one day!"

"Shanks, the Den Den Mushi?" Harry prompted with an amused expression. Really, the pirate captain could be such an adorable child sometimes.

"Oh, right." Shanks dug into the inside of his shirt and pulled out a polka-dotted snail shell, about half the size of his palm. Looking closer, Harry saw that the snail was still in the shell, as well as sporting a disturbingly humanoid face.

"Er, what's it for, then?" Harry asked.

"Uh, well, lots of things, I guess," Shanks explained, a little lost as to where to begin. "This is a Baby Den Den Mushi, so its range is pretty short, but I can call other people with a Den Den Mushi on it. Visual Den Den Mushi transfer images onto a screen and I think the marines have the technology to record that stuff now. The White Den Den Mushi mentioned yesterday is one that calls others like this Baby, but they're really rare and valuable because they disrupt attempts at wire-tapping by other Den Den Mushi. Your Wrackspurt still worked, though, so that's kind of awesome," Shanks grinned.

"Is it," Harry paused, wondering how to phrase his question, "alive?"

"Of course," Shanks replied. "How could it talk if it was dead?"

"Talk?" Harry asked, slightly alarmed by the concept of a snail talking.

"Yeah, when we call others, the Den Den Mushi delivers the message by speaking it. How else?"

Harry shook his head. It was, in a disturbing way, similar to the use of patronuses by the Order during the war, only less secure and apparently more common. This had potential for exploitation, actually. It seemed that the white snails were trusted for secure transmission, and people had a tendency to spill important information under the belief of security. If Harry could just bug a few of them belonging to high-ranking officials, who knows what kind of secrets he could discover?

A drop of water fell on the Baby Den Den Mushi, which emitted a squeak before retreating into his shell.

"Rain!" Shanks yelled, shaking Harry's thoughts away from his plotting, "and we're close. Come watch, Harry. There's nothing quite like a pirate's first look at the entrance into the Grand Line!"

In the distance, the silhouette of a large wall loomed over the ship as the clouds gathered threateningly. Somehow, this little ship was supposed to travel over it.

_The world is divided into four quadrants named after the four cardinal directions, _Addams had explained, _with the Red Line – a large mountain range – circling the globe vertically, and the Grand Line – the fifth ocean – circling the globe horizontally. Right now, we're in South Blue and in order to get into the Grand Line, we could either sail directly north into it, or travel up Reverse Mountain._

The ship was sailing faster though there was little change in wind speed. In fact, the sails had been taken in completely and the masts were bare. Looking over the railing, Harry could see that the ocean itself was rushing forwards, pulling the ship along with it towards a yet unknown destination, shrouded by fog. A small light, probably from a lighthouse, was struggling to do its job and direct the way to Reverse Mountain.

_While normally it seems a better idea to just sail north rather than bother going in a circle and climbing a mountain in a ship, most people choose the latter. The reason for this is that the Grand Line is bordered on both sides by strips of sea known as the Calm Belts. As the name implies, there are no currents, either wind or sea. If this isn't bothersome enough, the Calm Belt is home to all manner of Sea Kings who could swallow us whole like a grain of rice._

A channel of water cutting into the mountain became visible. It looked like a log flume ride except the water was traveling up. The entrance was marked with a series of rectangular arches and Harry barely had time to wonder who put them there when the rushing currents dragged the ship faster and faster until they practically flew up the waterway.

"Well done, men!" Shanks yelled out, "Straight through the center!"

The top of the mountain grew closer and closer, but the water, if anything, sped up faster and faster. The ship shot up past the end of the channel, hovering in the air for whole seconds as momentum and gravity battled out with a flash of lightening. The rumble of thunder washed over the crew as gravity won and the ship was sent downwards, building up speed again.

_The Grand Line is a sea of mysteries. To residents of the four Blues, it is known as the Pirate's Graveyard because as many as half the hopeful outlaws die trying to get in and another half die before even reaching their first island. The Grand Line is home to giants, fishmen and mermaids, carnivorous plants, and rogue Sea Kings. It is in the Grand Line where Devil Fruit that grant supernatural powers grow, where slavery and cannibalism are still practiced ways of 'civilized' life, and where the greatest treasure in the world – One Piece – is hidden._

The fog was clearing up though the clouds continued to rumble above. The pirates cheered as they rode with the waterfall, the wide expanse of ocean opening before their eyes.

"The Grand Line," Harry whispered aloud to himself. What wonders would he see there?

* * *

><p>"Doctor Crocus!"<p>

"Again?" grumbled the greeted man. He was a stocky man of late middle age with white streaks in his hair and a beard that resembled a crescent moon curved downwards. The most unique thing about his appearance, however, were the large petals that semi-circled his head.

"You know the way, Shanks. Let's go."

Harry gazed around him with interest. Just minutes ago, the ship was falling towards an open sea when a large, black mass rose from the waters and promptly swallowed them whole. The inside of the whale looked like the depictions common in children's bibles, though a quarter of the whale's stomach was painted sky blue and a large light hung from the top like an artificial sun.

Doctor Crocus climbed aboard from his island boat and directed them to the large exit. A few hundred feet through winding rivers and a couple of valves turned to open and close metal doors, the ship sailed smoothly from the whale out into the sea.

"Thanks, Doctor Crocus!" Shanks yelled back at the man who stayed in the whale.

"Bah. Get out of here, you whippersnapper. And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me doctor? It's been years since I sailed as part of Roger's crew," Crocus scowled, turning the valve to close the door again.

"Dahaha! Best years of my life, Doctor! So long!"

The door slid shut and the pirates prepared the ship for sailing again.

"What a strange whale," Harry commented.

"His name is Laboon – been here as long as I remember. He keeps growing, awesomely enough."

"BUOOOHH!" The whale call echoed through the air.

"You too!" Shanks yelled back.

"You ready, Captain?" Beckman asked.

Shanks nodded. Navigator Addams came by and dropped off two Eternal Poses for the First Mate. 'Bird Island' and 'Bloom Island' were etched into the wooden stand of the orb. The suspended compass arrows of both were pointed in the same direction.

"Theoretically," Addams explained, "we should cut through Bloom Island if we go to Bird Island directly through here – the shortest path between two points is a straight line and Bloom Island is on that line. If the two poses don't point in the same direction then we're off that line and losing time which I'm sure the captain would not appreciate," he concluded nonchalantly, clearly having no personal interest in how soon the ship reaches its destination.

"Hey Captain," called out Doctor Freddy, approaching the small group. "Do you mind if we dock for a few hours at Bloom? I need to pick up some aconite flowers."

Harry looked over with interest at this request. "What other flowers are there on Bloom Island?"

"Uhh," Freddy thought aloud, "there's a bunch of wild flowers like poppies and dandelions. I think someone once planted roses, and deeper in you get things like aconite, billed leaves, bloodroot, goose grass, pinfans, and clover. Actually, if we do dock, I'll have to let George know. I think he'd like a chance to collect some honey."

And Harry would most certainly like a chance to collect some potions ingredients.

Harry became a bit of a pack rat back home during the Second War against Voldemort. After the siege of Hogwarts where Voldemort was made mortal through the destruction of his horcruxes – Harry included – the Dark Lord escaped with his Death Eaters and the war was extended an extra two years. Inspired by Hermione's beaded handbag, Harry asked if it was possible to have a similar extension charm put onto the pockets of their clothes. A Hogwarts house-elf, who was helping with the after-battle clean up, overheard and practically begged for the job.

Hermione was understandably upset at giving the enslaved creatures more work when the school was a mess but eventually agreed when Harry managed to convince the house-elf to accept payment of a galleon for each elf who worked on the clothes as well as letting Harry cover the bill for any material expenses. Imagine the trio's surprise when the magical being returned less than a week later with full wardrobes of basilisk hide harvested years ago from the Chamber of Secrets, each robe with three pockets spelled to hold near-infinite objects without any noticeable increase in weight or bulk.

Hermione wouldn't shut up about the impossibility of the magic involved for a month. Ron just thought it was wicked and promptly used one for his Chocolate Frog card collection and another to store all the food Molly cooked up and put under preservation charms as a send off before the trio was on the run again. As for Harry, well, he saw no reason not to keep anything he thought was interesting, from little pieces of amber he found washed up on beaches to a souvenir Eiffel Tower figurine bought when visiting Fleur's family in France.

Potions ingredients, however, were practically useless on the run and ridiculously simple to buy otherwise, so Harry never hoarded much of them but the rarest, preferring to keep the finished products on hand instead. Just as he had plans to create a broom for flying purposes now that he was stranded in a world without such modes of transportation, Harry hoped he'd be able to remedy his dearth of ingredients at some of the islands with diverse plant growth.

"Well we gained nearly a day with the wind that brought us to Reverse Mountain, so I suppose it'd be fine so stop by," Shanks decided. "Although I don't know if the marines also took advantage of the same wind – "

"They didn't," Harry informed, having listened in on the bug last night. "They plan to sail over by this afternoon."

"Cool," Shanks grinned, before turning back to Freddy. "Then you tell George, and make sure to let Bombay know he should start bring up the empty water barrels."

"Will do Captain," Freddy replied, and walked off.

"Great, then," Harry announced, scanning the deck at the crew, "I'm off. Hopefully Roller will be up for a fight."

Roller, perhaps anticipating this event, met Harry halfway across the open deck and promptly removed his shirt. Harry fixed his robes into a tank top and trousers again before turning to look at the four pirates not on duty lounging around against the railing.

"Would you mind if instead of sparring, we play a game of keep-away?" Harry asked Roller, who shrugged and stated a simple 'Sure.' "In that case," Harry continued, "would any of you like to join in?" the wizard called out to the others. Three looked up with interest and rose to their feet.

"The name's Alvin," one pirate wearing a Jolly Roger beanie hat that resembled an acorn introduced himself before turning back. "Not coming, Lucky Roo?" he asked the remaining pirate, the man with an enormous stomach Harry observed fighting the marines two days ago. He was leaning against the railing, munching on a large rack of meat. Lucky Roo merely smiled and continued eating.

"My name's Skit. I probably won't be much of a challenge," said another, a short pirate with a small tattoo of a crab silhouette on his right arm. "I usually fight with pistols, not hand to hand combat."

"Do you have blanks?" Harry asked slipping his glasses off and placing them into a pocket.

"More than I know what to do with," the pirate snorted, "but they're not exactly safe at close range."

Harry grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets and slouching casually. "That's not a problem. Please use your guns, and if any of you use blades, I'd appreciate if you use those as well."

There was skeptical grumbling but blanks were loaded, a katana was drawn – though its user clearly intended to use the back of the blade – and a wooden staff retrieved by Alvin. Four pirates of varying weapons circled the wizard who stepped lightly, circling slowly in place to keep an eye on them. Roller was the first to attack, having already a pretty good idea of Harry's skill in dodging. He lunged forward and swept a leg across the floor.

Harry leapt over the leg, tumbling across the floor as Alvin swung his staff where Harry's head was. Skit took advantage of the approach in his direction and shot some blanks as the wizard lifted back onto his feet. A few quick sidesteps took Harry out of the imagined bullets' trajectory, but the force and heat of the first few shots irritated his eyes from even a foot away and Harry made a mental note to dodge the next series with a bit more distance.

Harry weaved backwards and dodged Roller's punch and Alvin's stab towards the midriff as Skit reloaded his pistol. The swordsman then made himself known to Harry with a series of diagonal slashes. The katana ruffled black locks but left the wizard otherwise unscathed as he sidestepped the first few and ducked the last so that he came back up behind Roller and effectively halted the swordsman's attack.

With the katana no longer swinging, Roller and Alvin felt safe again to attack their target, the brawler stringing together a set of punches and kicks as Harry led him around in a merry circle. The occasional back-flip was enough to dodge Alvin's staff whenever he dared to break into Roller's attack and the swordsman was at a loss as to how to attack without the space that was usually available when he was the lone attacker. Skit kept his pistol up, but true to the spirit of the game, chose not to fire randomly in case he 'hit' one of his 'allies.'

Finally, the timing of one of Roller's sweeping kicks coincided with Alvin's stab towards Harry chest. Unable to simply leap or dodge them both, the wizard could only fall backwards where Skit was waiting and quickly fired his blanks. Remembering the danger of taking even a blank from close range, Harry overcompensated when he sidestepped the pistol, stepping into the range of both katana and staff, ending up with one threatening his throat while the other rested at his lower back.

"Damn," Harry chuckled, "that was what, eighty seconds?"

"Ninety-two," Roller replied. "Next time you should attack back."

"I guess I should," Harry smirked, finally removing his hands from his trouser pockets, one coming up with a dagger to knock away the blade at his throat while a foot kicked backwards to push away staff. With the edge of his hand, the wizard chopped the swordsman's windpipe before spinning to face the stunned staff wielder.

Before Harry could continue, Roller attacked again, having recovered from the surprise the fastest and put the wizard on the defensive. When Harry managed to escape the offensive attacks by hooking Roller's knee and triggering a small stumble, he was once more surrounded by a circle of four pirates.

Harry grinned, hands juggling blunted knives.

"Come."

**A/N: Fictional fight scenes are so fun :)**

**Rasberry Jo: Thanks for the review! I couldn't reply, because you don't allow PMs, but I'm glad you liked the outtakes. Not to worry, though, as Shanks interaction will continue to grow from here on out.**

**Thanks again to my beta, Indifferent Nobody.**

**A question for my readers - just now, when Laboon called out to Shanks and Shanks replied "You too!", what do _you_ think Laboon was saying?**

**101dalmatians reviews! 8/20/11**


	9. Chapter 7: Taking a Break

**A/N: Hey guys :)**

**Chapter 7: Taking a Break**

The next three days were almost boring if one ignored the weather spasms. English lessons continued with Beckman, as well as potato peeling with George, spars with Roller, random hours of listening in on Wrackspurt 3, and navigation lessons with Addams. It was interesting to observe that the stars – when they could be seen in the sky that seemed to be throwing tantrums with clouds and precipitation erratically – were organized in completely flipped formations from the world back home. This was incredibly confusing at first and resulted in many counterintuitive observations, not least of which was the South Star replacing the North Star. Still, it was better than needing to restart his astronomy knowledge from scratch.

Harry also started up an early morning friendship with the night lookout Greg who had insomnia, which was noticeable from his consistently black-bagged eyes, and was on passably good terms with everyone in the crew except maybe Alvin, who was holding a grudge for Harry's teasing of his acorn hat after the keep-away game. Lucky Roo was a bit tricky to judge since he always seemed happy and hungry, but he seemed reasonably accepting of the wizard's presence.

Interaction between Harry and Shanks lowered to a minimum. The first two days out on the Grand Line was a dramatic weather rollercoaster of snowstorms, high winds, and cloudless skies highlighted by a summer sun, thus there was little time for flirting. The following day was calm as the ship finally entered Bloom Island's stable climate zone, but every free hand on the ship was recruited into bringing the empty water barrels on deck once Bombay rolled them out of storage.

"I think we missed it," Addams grumbled, glancing quickly between the mid-day sky and his notebook he was scribbling in with his new favorite quill. "It rained yesterday. We'll have to wait another two days."

"I guess we'll stay all day tomorrow on the island then, to pass some time until the next rain," Shanks decided.

Harry sat on a covered barrel and joined the conversation, interested to know how Shanks would treat him now after the three day break from flirting. Would the pirate continue to ignore his propositions or finally have a response? "Why is waiting for the rain here so important?"

"Rainwater of Bloom Island is some of the best there is, and it falls in an almost regular three day cycle," Beckman explained, before turning back to Shanks. "Should I go ahead and tell the crew to prepare for a day's dock at Bloom?"

"Sure. Freddy and George should be glad to know," Shanks said, before turning to Harry with a cheeky grin. "Sorry Harry, you couldn't see me wet at Reverse Mountain and now you'll have to wait even longer now at Bloom."

Harry smiled. "Oh that's alright," the wizard drawled in a tone of voice he was proud to claim was a stolen prize from Draco Malfoy. "If I get too desperate there's always the option of simply tossing you overboard."

"Dahaha, only if you dare! If I don't drag you in with me, my crew will kick you off from the railings."

"What a ridiculous notion," Harry replied, blatantly buffing his fingernails on his robes with an exaggerated bored expression. "I had originally planned on jumping in with you of course. How else would you get the chance to see _me _all soaking wet?"

Shanks laughed and walked away, blushing lightly. Harry liked to imagine that with each step, the pirate captain was thinking naughty thoughts about a certain wizard dripping sea water. At the very least, he knew Shanks was interested in participating in the flirting from now on. Harry almost pitied the man – he was clearly inexperienced in wooing and Harry had a rather long resume.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" Harry asked, as Freddy and George – so different from the last Fred and George pair the wizard knew – prepared a rowboat with containers for everything they hoped to collect on Bloom Island.

"What for?" the doctor asked, tossing some spades, clippers, and pots into the boat.

"I'd like to see what kind of plants I can find and maybe harvest a few. I've a little experience with potions brewing and I'd like to see if there's anything I can try making," the wizard explained.

"Potions, huh? Well, I don't do much medicine making myself. It's mostly poultices that are useful on this ship what with all the fights we get into, but if you can make some cold draught, it might be useful in the future."

Harry smiled, finding a bit of amusement at Freddy's ignorance. Muggles, after all, only knew of potions as another term for consumable medicine or poison, not the magical brews Harry was familiar with. "Is that a yes, then?"

"Sure," Freddy agreed, "if George is okay with it. George?"

George glanced up from the bee-hat netting he was patching and grunted.

"Great," Harry said, clapping the chef on the shoulder, "thanks George."

The ship set anchor a few hundred meters off shore and several rowboats were lowered into the water. A few members of the crew stayed behind, not interested in the flowery island, but most of the pirates took the opportunity to stretch their legs.

The island was beautiful. Flowers of every color imaginable were blooming on the spring island where the climate was perfect for year round blossoms. When the rowboat was pulled onto the beach, Harry could see that the plants were all dewy from the water left behind by the recent rain.

George split off from the group quickly, wearing his hat, carrying jars under his arm, and holding a bucket of varying tools for collecting honey. Freddy pulled on thick gloves and grabbed his own box of things he prepared before turning to Harry. "Will you need anything or you just feel like looking around on your own?"

"I'll be fine, thanks," Harry said, and waved goodbye as Freddy left as well.

"Mmm," Harry breathed, stretching lightly. The soreness was gone, which was good because he would need a lot of magic today. The wizard was sure he could find plenty of herbs used often in potions, but whether they would retain all their properties growing in a magicless world was another matter. Back home, ingredients found in magic-deficient areas were stored in vials charged with a current of magic. Harry was hopeful the same would work here.

The wizard pulled a wooden chest from his robes. He had bought it originally because his travels sometimes brought him into situations where he could collect rare potions ingredients, like Nundu breath, and it was a convenient place to put expensive emergency potions like Felix Felicis. Harry chuckled as he enlarged and opened the chest, pulling out an empty jar. To think that now even daisy root was an ingredient he'd have to harvest himself. He lightly tugged a few daisies from the ground, snapped the stems from the roots, and placed them into the jar, sealing the lid on tight. With his wand, the wizard etched in a series of runes in circles around the glass before channeling his magic into the inscriptions. When the jar began to glow, he put it back into the chest and moved on.

The island was a gold mine of useful plants. After finding goosegrass, aconite, scurvy grass, fluxweed, dandelions, asphodel, knotgrass, baneberry, star grass, belladonna, wormwood, snakeweed, and peppermint, the wizard spent an extra hour circling the edge of the island to ensure he'd be able to apparate back the next full moon. His greatest find, however, came afterwards just as he decided to find George and maybe acquire some honey to make honey water.

Atop a small hill where the soil was drained naturally by gravity grew a small patch of pink flowers. A more careful inspection revealed that the flowers were actually pink-colored leaves growing in an overlapping pattern, protecting the delicate light purple flowers inside.

"Dittany," Harry whispered to himself in breathless excitement. Hurriedly, he dug up some of the soil and grass to the side and created two small piles that he transfigured into clay pots. Carefully, he transferred two of the dittany plants into the pots and, as an experiment, carved runes into the pot of one and channeled magic into it. A glamour layered over the runes hid the glow. Perhaps this would reproduce the conditions of growing in a magical world, but until results were noticeable he could harvest the dittany from the other pot and store it in a jar like the rest of his ingredients.

The wizard wove his magic into long strands to conjure lengths of twine and crude rope. Tying the pots into simple twine nettings and attaching them to the thicker lash, Harry slung the rope over his shoulders so that the pots dangled upright at his side.

He met up with George shortly after, still wearing his hat with the protective netting but with bee stings on his arms and jars of honeycomb in his hands.

"Wow," Harry said, bending over to look into the jars, "you just took the honeycombs whole, huh?"

"Easier," George replied. "Didn't have smoke, so I couldn't buy time to take just honey."

"What do you use the honey for, anyway?"

"Preserving meats and fruit. Bombay asked for some to use on the sails."

"The sails, really?" Harry asked, interested. "I'll have to ask him about that. And the comb?"

George shrugged.

"Can I have it when you're done?" Harry requested.

"Is that dittany?" came a voice.

"Freddy!" Harry called, turning to look back at the doctor who was walking towards them, dragging a full wooden crate behind him. "Quite a lucky find, I think. Would you mind if I keep the pots in the infirmary? Not many other places get as much sun as your office."

"I don't know if they'll survive well," Freddy frowned. "Weather aboard a ship is pretty unpredictable. Bird Island is a summer island and Yappa is a spring island, so the coming week or two should be alright, but the Grand Line could bring anything from hail to fog and a winter island would kill it off right away."

"Meh, I'll give it a lamp on darker days to tide it over," Harry shrugged, lifting up one of the pots to get a better look at the delicate flower and velvety leaves responsible for saving his and Ron's life during the horcrux hunt, "and if worst comes to worst, we'll just make tea out of the whole thing."

"Then sure," Freddy agreed, hefting the crate up a little before turning around. "Let's go then."

The rest of the day passed quickly. There was no game to hunt on the island, nor trees to harvest for limber, so all the pirates returned to the ship before the day was over for lack of anything better to do.

After putting the dittany under the watchful eye of Freddy onto his desk in the infirmary, Harry helped George out in the kitchen where the silent man taught Harry the joys of eating cubes of raw honeycomb while preserving food for long-term storage. The wizard left with several slabs of almost empty honeycomb that he put away into his potions chest to process later.

The deck was still covered in barrels, so he couldn't spar with Roller or play with Yassop. Bombay was treating the sails with honey to increase its durability, Freddy was organizing herbs, Beckman was taking inventory in the storage room, George was cooking dinner, Greg was having a long overdue nap, Addams was making plans for 'retirement' on his favorite gloomy island a quarter of the way down the Grand Line, and Lucky Roo was raiding the fridge.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Harry asked Shanks, who was napping on the ship's dragon figurehead, straw hat covering his face from the setting sun.

"No problem," Shanks replied, sitting up and tipping his hat back onto his head.

Harry climbed onto the figurehead and activated his bug transmitter again, and soon the sounds of a scratching quill and rustling paper joined the lightly splashing waves as background noise.

"So what's the plan for the rest of the trip?" Harry finally asked after a few minutes of sea-gazing.

"Well, we'll set sail tomorrow and catch the rain until we leave the climate zone. Sail into Bird Island's zone and make a hard turn towards Yappa in the days after that. There's not much else to worry about, really."

"I've been meaning to ask, actually," Harry wondered aloud, "about the 'zones' and such. So far, I've just assumed you meant a stable climate area centered on the islands. Is that about right?"

"Eh, pretty much," Shanks confirmed, scratching his head beneath his straw hat before he took it off and began to twirl it around. "The bigger the island, the bigger the zone. Bloom Island is a pretty average sized island, so its climate zone is about a day's sail outwards from the shore. The sight of that zone becoming filled with rainclouds is actually quite a sight to see."

"So the reason we aren't going straight to Yappa Island is because it's faster to sail through the more stable climate zones?"

"Exactly!" Shanks grinned. "Man, we're really going to miss the Addagator when he leaves. We'll have to navigate like before without his fancy maths and predictions."

"I heard him talking about retirement earlier. Isn't he a bit young?" Harry asked.

"We only have him under a five-year contract, actually, so for him, it's not so much actual retirement as it is just us letting him go," Shanks explained, placing his hat back on his hand and flipping over to lie on his stomach, legs dangling on either side of the dragon figurehead, his chin propped up by a hand, the elbow resting on the warm wood. "He might do something else afterwards; he's pretty smart after all."

"Very," Harry agreed. Indeed, Addams had a remarkable intelligence with an almost supernatural ability to apply his mathematical knowledge to the real world. It took only half an hour of convoluted explanations on the navigator's method for calculating the best path between islands before Harry started to wonder if even Hermione would ever have been able to follow and understand such a thought process.

There was a moment of comfortable silence between the two men as they sat on the crudely carved dragon head, listening to the gentle waves and quiet sounds of paperwork from the transmission when the sound of an opening door broke through, followed by crisp footsteps and a sharp salute.

"Lieutenant Rango," came a young male voice.

"Petty Officer," the Lieutenant acknowledged, followed shortly by the sound of a pen being set down on a table as the marine turned his attention away from the papers. "Report."

"We have left the climate zone of Cactus Island, sir."

"Is that so?" Rustling papers. "Why do you believe that to be true, Petty Officer?"

"Ah, sir, this is based on the distance labeled on the map stocked in the Navigation Study, Lieutenant."

A short pause as no one spoke up.

"Petty Officer," Rango finally said, "this is your first time in the Grand Line, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Something you should keep in mind then is that the distances given for the expanse of a climate zone is merely an approximate distance from the experience of previous marines. Depending on from where you set sail and in which direction you sail to, that distance could be greater or less so. Have you already forgotten the weather patterns during the two day sail arriving at this island?"

"Ah, no sir, of course not."

"Of course not," the marine lieutenant repeated in an amused tone of voice. "From now on there is no need to inform me of when we cross the edges of climate zones, Petty Officer. I assure you that whenever we do, the sea itself will inform the entirety of the ship quite effectively on its own. I suggest you return to your post, Marine, and prepare yourself to do your job."

"Yes, Lieutenant Rango, my apologies."

A snapped salute, footsteps, and a closed door followed quickly, and the rustling and scratching of paperwork continued so after.

"Shanks?" Harry asked, when the transmission stopped being informative. "We are currently sailing in a straight line towards Bird Island, which is the same island this Rango person has an eternal pose to, correct?"

Shanks rolled back into a seated position. "Pretty sure that's what we heard last time."

"So then, why is he at Cactus Island?"

**A/N: There may be a bit of a wait for the next chapter now that classes are starting up again and all.**

**Thanks everyone, for all your guesses as to what Laboon said to Shanks!**

**113 reviews August 28, 2011**


	10. Chapter 8: Spelunking

**A/N: Miss me?**

**Chapter 8****: Spelunking**

"Cactus Island, eh?" Addams asked aloud, tapping the end of the blood quill to his chin as his other hand flipped rapidly through his notebook. "It seems like those marines were either dropping by to shop around Whiskey Peak, or they have an eternal pose to Yappa after all, since Cactus Island is between there and Reverse Mountain."

"If it's the latter, how does that change the length of our head start? Do we even have a lead at all?" Harry asked.

"Pff, that's easy mental math," Addams responded, looking a little irritated that he wouldn't have an excuse to use his quill. "Plus, even if we no longer can count on those three days needed to set the log pose on Bird, there's still my superior navigation route. Simply put, if we leave tomorrow, our five day lead cuts down to one, possibly two, depending on the weather patterns."

"You know," Shanks mused, "that's actually kind of awesome. If we only get there a day ahead, there's bound to be some kind of dramatic showdown!"

"Gonna kick some marine arses, eh?" Harry asked in a butchered trash-talk accent, crossing his eyes and glaring maliciously as he hunched over in an exaggerated slouch.

"Dahahaha!" Shanks laughed. "What the hell are you saying, huh?"

Harry jutted out his bottom lip in a pout before lifting his nose into the air and walking towards the door with a scoff. "Hmph, well, if you insist, I'll use nothing but the finest of words around your delicate sensibilities."

Shanks followed Harry out of the navigation room with a wave to Addams and a snort at the wizard's act. "'Fraid I wouldn't understand any of that, Harry. We pirates are coarse creatures of the body and mind, you know?" he added with a smirk.

"Coarse, hmm?" Harry questioned, slowing his steps before turning around and leaning into the pirate captain's chest. "I find that rougher men tend to be quite dirty, and I'm no novice at dirty talk in the bedroom. Tell me Shanks, what kind of language turns you on?" His voice dipped low as Harry raised his arms to lightly rest them on the pirate's shoulders, head leaning in until his face was within the brim of the straw hat sitting loosely on Shanks' head. "How hot would it make you if I spent the next hour detailing my plans to map out every inch of your skin… with nothing but my tongue? Your clothes are loose, you know, leaving a lot to the imagination, except of course," fingers walked down from the shoulders to Shanks' exposed chest, smooth and firm, "for your fine muscles here. How badly would you like to know the many things I fantasize about doing to you?"

Through the tantalizingly light contact Harry had with Shanks' body, the wizard felt the pirate captain take a deep, shuddering breath before stilling. The air thickened with an aura of what Harry could only assume was the other's powerful haki. For a fleeting moment, the feeling reminded Harry of the trapped green fire in his medallion before he was distracted by the sight of Shanks' growing smirk.

"Do to me?" the pirate repeated. "I'm afraid I'll have to protest that statement Harry." Shanks stepped away, an almost dark expression on his face so different from the usual grin that Harry couldn't help but stare for a moment. It'd been a while since a target surprised him during conversation. In that time, Shanks shrugged off Harry's arms and brought up his own. His fingers rose to eye-level but didn't touch, instead falling slowly, drawing nearer, brushing feather-light touches on the collar of the wizard's robes that grew firmer as it walked lower. Soon, magic joined the haki being released until the air was almost crackling. "I'm the captain here, after all."

Harry's hand captured Shanks' as it reached his lower stomach with a smile. "Captains are responsible for the orders. Surely it is up to the crew to do the work? Speaking of which…" Images flashed through Harry's mind as he spoke. It had been some time since his last fuck, though he tried to keep such thoughts to a minimum since there was little privacy for taking care of the problems they would bring when aboard a fully staffed pirate ship. He was quite certain that right now though, Shanks wouldn't protest one bit if he dragged the man to bed this moment.

The thought was welcome and Harry was caught off guard when the haki dissipated.

"Yes, speaking of which," Shanks continued, taking back his hand, "I should be letting the crew know about the new information on the enemy before they turn in for the evening." With a cheeky grin and a far too chirpy 'good-bye!' Shanks left behind a flushed wizard with a strong desire to give himself a cold shower with an over-powered aguamenti charm.

To think just seconds ago he was optimistically hopeful that the problem would be resolved much more pleasurably.

"Did you chicken out, or what?"

"And a very good evening to you as well, Freddy," Harry smiled, hiding his irritation at the unexpected rejection.

"Feh, sure. I suppose seeing as you actually have the possibility of being laid sometime this month, you would think it's a good evening," Freddy replied. "So? Why didn't you go for it?"

Harry didn't answer for a while, suddenly embarrassed about his failed seduction – he had never failed before in hooking a sexy man or woman for a quick shag – choosing instead to watch Shanks walk away from the door of the navigation room, presumably to find Beckman to inform him of the new situation. When the person of interest left his view, the wizard finally turned back to the doctor who was leaning against the railing of the ship, patient but curious. "How long have you known your captain?"

Freddy shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning back in thought. "About ten years now, I suppose."

"Has he ever been in a relationship?" Harry inquired, stalling but curious.

A snort was the initial reaction. "Almost none of us have been," Freddy informed him with a wry smile. "Yassop has a cute wife back home, and I used to have a sweetheart a decade or so ago, but otherwise we pirates satisfy ourselves at the many whorehouses the more heavily settled islands are willing to provide. All of us get a certain, ah, allowance of gold and cash to spend on entertainment beyond the alcohol our captain provides. There's a particularly nice and affordable one in a back alley on the fourth tree of Sabaody Archipelago," he said with a leer. "Gorgeous women and a nice selection of males for the more experimental or the occasional interested female pirate."

"And your captain? Is he one of those more experimental ones?"

The pirate paused to think the question over a little. "You have to understand," Freddy finally began, "that I've never been in a whorehouse with the captain, so I can't say for sure."

Harry nodded but said nothing, knowing that the ship doctor's opinion was more likely to be accurate than not.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard Addams talk about his retirement by now, yeah?"

"Shanks said he's being released from a five-year contract with the crew."

"Yeah." Freddy chuckled. "It's not really a contract, 'cause since when did pirates like doing stuff that legal and tidy, huh? Captain kidnapped Addams, really. I don't know from who or where specifically, but it was definitely around a certain Red-Light District well known for catering to the weird sexual interests. As far as I can tell, our navigator fell into debt and was forced into a five-year prostitution contract to pay it off. He's a masochist, a trait which is bound to attract some rich perverts, so regardless of how much money the debt was it seemed the collectors believed they could gain from the agreement. Luckily enough, his first night out coincided with Shanks' venture and being our idiot captain, he proceeded to snatch the man right then and there to be our navigator for the next five years instead of a whore. I can only assume from all this that the captain was in that district for pleasure and that he at least entered a brothel where male options were displayed, or offered when he requested it."

"Well, that should reduce the awkwardness in bed, at least," Harry concluded aloud, smirking when Freddy coughed slightly at the mental image the statement brought up.

"Is that all you were worried about? 'Cause man, you should've just jumped him. I can't imagine he's never at least had anal with a woman."

"Actually," Harry finally admitted, "he turned me down."

"Oh." Freddy shuffled a little awkwardly in place. "Well, uh, sorry then, though I guess it's not that surprising in hindsight."

"Do enlighten me."

"For starters, it's probably not you. I mean, you're the kind of person even I wouldn't mind taking to bed for a tumble if you were willing to take it."

Harry laughed. "You'd die trying to take someone like me, Freddy," the wizard said, not entirely joking. "But thanks, I'm flattered – do go on."

"The captain probably wants you to join the crew," the pirate doctor concluded.

Harry blinked and thought it over a bit. At first, he wasn't sure what that had to do with anything until he fit the puzzle pieces together. The bounty book in Beckman's collection showed a significant fraction of pirates were female, yet Shanks had none in his crew. When he first started flirting with the pirate, the man was flustered but his attitude just now proved he was no blushing virgin, probably just out of practice. Add that to the fact that Freddy just informed him that no one aboard the ship was involved in courtship?

"Your captain," the wizard clarified slowly, tasting the words as he spoke them, "doesn't like the complications of sexual relations on the ship?"

"Pretty much," Freddy said. "He doesn't like how it eventually leads to people acting irrationally hateful around their own comrades, like out of jealousy or one-sided affection, you know?"

Harry stuck his tongue out. "But all I want is a fuck," he whined.

The pirate doctor just laughed. "Yeah, the captain's pretty weird. I really can't imagine a pair of guys falling in love just 'cause of some sex."

Harry frowned but didn't reply.

* * *

><p>"Move, move, move!" Quickly, the pirates separated themselves into two groups – one to defend the ship, and another to achieve their original objective of stealing the Devil Fruit from its origin before the marines.<p>

Not even the Addagator could predict the erratic weather patterns of the Grand Line. Though his navigation route minimized the ship's exposure outside calmer climate zones, the sea was brutal during the days the ship spent at its mercy. A veritable hurricane swept through, trapping the ship in its gale force winds, shredding the front sail and tearing bits of roofing from the sleeping quarters.

Thankfully, the main sail remained intact – partially due to Bombay's honey-treatment strengthening it against abuse – and there were enough back-up supplies of wood and cloth to fix the rest of the ship. Upon arrival at Yappa, however, the lookout spotted a marine ship sailing mere hours away. Though Shanks would likely disagree, Harry was thankful that the pirate flag had not yet been replaced after the storm as it gave them more time to hide from their enemy.

And so, with the clock ticking before the arrival of the marines, the crew split up, with Shanks leading the treasure hunt in anticipation of the Lieutenant doing the same.

"Alright men, our best bet is to check the large pit entrance to the underground cavern in the middle of the island we found three years ago. Let's go!" Shanks quickly ran off. He had left his collared cloak behind on the ship so he could move through the forests easier and Harry was enjoying the view. The broad expanse of the pirate's shoulders was much more delicious this way.

The past week had witnessed another cooling of relations between Shanks and Harry as Harry continued to make his interest known while the pirate never allowed anything to progress beyond simple flirtation. Harry felt a little guilty that he was still trying to seduce a man who was just trying to keep things peaceful like a good leader, but the pirate wasn't helping matters at all. Shanks occasionally responded with quick-witted innuendo and later by ignoring the teasing, sending mixed messages until the wizard felt like he was pursuing an adolescent girl playing keep-away.

For that matter, why _was_ Harry still pursuing him at all?

The travel through the forest was long as the relatively large group tried to cut through the thick brush without creating too obvious a path for any enemies to use in pursuit of them. Only pirates with a decent sense of direction were chosen for the search group, so although they were only loosely connected through what could be seen of each other, everyone managed to end up in the same place.

The pit was incredibly wide, its depths hidden in shadows so that it was difficult to see just how deep it went.

"Let's see, the last time we came, how'd we get down?" Shanks asked.

"I think we used vines as climbing rope, Captain," one of the pirates answered. "It wasn't very deep – it's after we land and start traveling the tunnels that it gets deeper and deeper."

"That's right; this shouldn't be too hard then. Everyone grab a vine and head on down."

Harry smirked and leapt down first, casting a strong 'lumos' to light his way followed by a wandless 'aresto momentum' to slow his decent. He landed lightly a few dozen meters later to the furious cursing of the pirates above him. "Coming?" he asked casually, raising his wand and expanding the illumination charm to light the circular room around him.

Harry looked around as he waited for the others to come down. It really was just a crude cave with a single large tunnel leading the way deeper into the ground. The ground was damp, probably from collecting rain, but well drained no doubt due to the slanted ground towards the tunnel. There was likely a large underground lake located at the very end.

"Oi, Harry!"

The wizard looked up to see Shanks waving. The lighting made it difficult to see the pirate captain's face, but his request echoed through the pit.

"Help me down too, yeah?"

Harry barely comprehended the implications of the question when Shanks jumped down with an enthusiastic whoop. Quickly, Harry threw a wandless 'aresto momentum' and blinked in shock when it was _slapped_ away by the haki pulsing in the pirate's skin. Thinking quickly, Harry threw another specifically at Shanks clothing instead while preparing to fly up and catch the man if it failed. Thankfully, the charm stuck onto the baggy pants and shirt and one very excited man floated gently to the ground with a soft 'oof' as he landed on his backside.

"That was awesome!" Shanks grinned, before yelling at the rest of his crew to move their lazy asses. Though they threw down their own curses and jibes, the remaining pirates chose to climb down rather than jump.

Their decision was probably wise as Harry was distracted by the strange reaction he just witnessed between haki and magic. His spell was quite forcibly rejected from working on Shanks with no conscious effort on the pirate's part. Would the same happen for all haki users? How adept would the haki user have to be? If Shanks used the color of armaments, how thick a barrier could he make against Harry's spells? And finally, could Harry's magic also work to repel damage from haki?

Feet thumping down shook Harry from his thoughts and the group moved on into the tunnel with only Harry's glowing wand to light the way.

"How far is it?" Harry asked.

Shanks just shrugged. "Haven't a clue. Beckman showed you what we're looking for, right?"

Harry nodded. A few days ago, after English lessons, Beckman dug out a devil fruit encyclopedia and showed Harry a few examples of what their treasure might look like. Considering only a Lieutenant who was recently transferred to the Grand Line was ordered to search for it, the fruit was most likely a paramecia or zoan. Other than that though, there was little to go on except that the fruit should have a patterned design of swirls.

"So we'll keep going 'til we find it. Sou suggested we check the underground lake, but otherwise, we're winging it."

Harry frowned as he looked around the walls of the tunnel that began to split into three ways a few meters ahead. He cast a wandless lumos so that his left hand glowed, leaving his wand free to transfigure rocks into glass jars into which he conjured bluebell flames. Now with an alternate source of light, the wizard dispelled the lumos and laid his wand flat on his palm.

"Point Me." The wand spun in his hand before falling off, almost hitting the floor before Harry caught it. It seemed that in a world with no magic, there was no magical north for a wand to latch on to. "Well, that won't work. Which way to the lake?"

The pirates turned to look at one in particular, who was looking down the three tunnels.

"Well, Skit?" Shanks prompted.

"If I remember correctly, the first turn was down the tunnel to the right. The ground also slants most in that direction, so it makes sense for rain water to drain that way."

Harry stuffed his wand back into his sleeve. A wand was a useful but fragile weapon, so it'd be best if he didn't keep it dangling in his fingers. "Great, er, can everyone carry a few jars?" The flames were handed out amongst the pirates. "Should I leave some as markers?"

Shanks shook his head. "We don't want to lead the marines right to us. Skit will remember the way."

And so the group continued, led by one man's memory of a visit long ago.

**A/N: Sigh, back in school with homework responsibilities. I'll try to keep updating regularly though. This story in particular, I've got a pretty good idea of where its going and all that jazz, which should help keep the words flowing, I think.**

**Thanks bunched to my beta, Indifferent Nobody, for her patience in helping me with this chapter. It's a bit different from the previous chapters and I'm trying to pick up the pace a bit. I hope you liked :)**

**132 reviews, September 12, 2011**

**Thanks everyone!**


	11. Chapter 9: Devil Fruit

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait.**

**Chapter 9: Devil Fruit**

The hours ticked by as Skit directed the group down the cave through tunnel after tunnel. As the ceiling began to duck down and the walls began to open up or close in for random stretches of the chosen pathway, the pirates chose to consume their packed rations and tied Harry's jars of burning blue flames around their necks to allow for easier maneuverability.

Strangely enough, whenever the group squeezed through the thin passages, Shanks and Harry were always separated by at least one man.

Harry wasn't sure how to interpret that. He was quite sure Shanks was doing it on purpose, since the wizard had taken to fiddling with his robe's camouflage enchantments by changing its color in dizzying cycles. The pirate captain took to the distraction like a cat to a laser pointer – so much that he never left Harry's side when walking through the wider caverns. Clearly, Shanks was consciously avoiding physical contact. Perhaps Harry shouldn't have pinched the pirate's arse after the first hour in a fit of boredom?

"Hold up," one of the pirates called out. He held up a hand to grab everyone's attention while the other hand rested at his mouth gesturing for silence. The group waited a beat in silence, and slowly the sound of trickling water became clear. "Nearly there, then," the pirate concluded needlessly.

The traveling crew picked up speed through the widening tunnel, the shadows flickering around them as the jars of blue flame bounced on the pirates' chests. The pathway came to an abrupt stop in the form of a solid stone wall. For a moment, Harry wondered if they took a wrong turn somewhere when, one by one, the pirates turned to the right and slipped through a crack hidden in the shadows. Harry followed them and didn't bother to hold back a whistle at the sight that opened up before him.

A large lake occupied an even larger cavern, filled by a small waterfall that splashed from an unidentifiable location as the sound echoed around the walls. What was shocking, however, was the fluorescence of the lake itself. It pulsed and glowed with the trademark green of bioluminescence, occasionally bright enough to reflect off the walls, revealing the cavern to be formed of mostly an unknown crystalline structure that made Harry feel like he was inside a geode.

"Just as beautiful as last time," Shanks grinned. "Shall we dive down now and take a look, men?"

The pirate captain's words were barely spoken when shirts, weapons, and flame jars were tossed aside. One pirate, who was taking the time to find a dry ledge for the matches originally brought for lighting the way, was attacked by a wave from a cannonball jump. Whoops and cheers bounced through the area as the pirate jumped at each other, splashing and chasing each other with jeers and taunts between dives.

Harry cast a Bubble-Head charm and dived down. There was little point in joining the pirate crew in their teasing – he wasn't close enough to them for that just yet since most of the people on the treasure hunting crew were still only acquaintances to him. Instead, the wizard bobbed gently in the glowing pool of water, scanning the dips and rough edges of the lake bed, wishing he could sink down and walk along it. Something to increase his weight maybe?

He summoned a few rocks and spelled them with cushion charms and sticking charms to cling onto his robes and trousers. Slowly, he was dragged down and Harry took slow steps as he explored. Other than the glowing algae, there were white, blind cavefish swimming around, fleeing from Harry's larger presence. Stepping onwards, the wizard arrived at a sharp cliff edge. Kneeling down, Harry peered over into the murky depths where the algae did not glow.

Casting a wandless lumos, Harry let his shining hand light the way as he stepped off the cliff edge, allowing his stone weights to slowly drag him down deeper. His view was still very much obscured but the wizard was wary of increasing the magic channeled into his hand since such a bright light source so close to his eyes could blind him. He looked around at what he had to work with. Making items glow remotely was tricky. He could use lumos to light his wand and hand, and with some time he could light other objects as long as he held them, but lighting them up and leaving them somewhere? Fire would work better.

Harry summoned the jars of blue flames and used sticking charms to light the lake floor. Amidst the bobbing shadows of water plants flowing softly in the mild underwater currents was a strange plant. It looked like a tree, however it was clear the trunk was actually created through the braiding of vines, the ends of which were separated like branches. The vines weren't quite vines either, though, as they were ribbon-shaped, like seaweed, yet colorless and with a velvety texture instead of the smooth, rubbery feel normally associated with living seaweed.

Pulsing in the middle of the transparent mass was a blue fruit, its skin imprinted with what looked like snakes curled in 'S' shapes. Red sparks shot upwards from Harry's wand as he tried to bring the attention of the pirates. Unfortunately it seemed Harry was too deep for them to reach with lung capacity alone. Eventually, Harry shed his weights to float up instead.

"So," Harry started, treading water and popping his bubble as it muffled his voice, "I'm pretty sure I found it. Is there some specific way to harvest a devil fruit? I mean, how do we even know that thing is ripe? Do devil fruits have a stage of ripeness or whatever?"

"If the marines are already searching for it," one pirate – Nokah, Harry was pretty sure –offered, "it's probably, uh, as ripe as it's gonna get with a special power."

"Yeah," agreed another – Ike? "I didn't get close enough for a look at it, but I don't suppose it's simply hanging on a branch for the picking?"

Harry shook his head, splashing a few drops around from his wet hair. "If anything, there's a cage of branches protecting it. Are all devil fruits like that? I can't imagine many people being able to get a hold of one if so. Unless there are professional devil fruit pickers out there with specialized skills for their trade," Harry pondered aloud.

"The marines do have a small branch of soldiers who keep track of the fruits, and they might go on some retrieval missions too, but I think there are other easier ways of doing this. They're rare because they're powerful and coveted and there's a limited number, not because they're difficult to harvest," Skit explained. "Of course, most knowledge on devil fruits is either highly classified or just baseless rumor."

"Actually," Shanks finally interjected, "I've heard some pretty interesting stories about devil fruit picking. They're a bit like apples. Apples stay on the branch even after ripening, but eventually fall off, right? I'll bet that fruit will be released eventually, which is likely how most Fruits are collected, but we don't have the time to just wait around. What do you think Harry? Can you try and get at it yourself, or maybe give the rest of us some bubbles too?"

Harry frowned a little. He had only just discovered the strange relationship between haki and magic so he was a little wary about casting Bubble-Head charms left and right. What if the Haki ate away at his spell and the bubble burst while the wearer was not in a position to quickly return to the surface?

"How many of you can't use haki yet?" About half the group raised they hands. A bubble quickly appeared around their heads to their shock, many of whom immediately began playing with it by poking the thin film. "I can try on the rest of you, but I don't know how well it will hold," Harry explained to the remainder of the group. "Perhaps try your best to rein your haki in beneath your skin? And definitely always keep a clear path between you and the surface. Shall we try it?"

Some tries later, the whole group had magical air tanks and was diving down to the area still lit by Harry's blue flames. Weighing themselves down with rocks in their trouser pockets, most managed to stay relatively deep as they circled the plant. One pirate threw a punch, but it merely bounced off.

"It's like rubber," he commented, voice muffled but still decipherable as it traveled through the water. Harry pulled at one of the 'branches'. It stretched to impossible lengths and snapped sharply back into place when released, smashing a boulder with the recoil. For a non-magical plant, it could be pretty dangerous.

"Well damn," Shanks sighed, "a plant that doesn't take damage from hits and can't be torn to bits either."

Harry considered the plant for a bit, then pulled a knife from his robes and sliced straight through to the fruit, pulling the blue sphere from the incision. As soon as the fruit lost contact with the plant, the clear vines blackened and shriveled. "Simple enough," the wizard grinned upon surfacing, dropping all the Bubble-head charms. "Shall we go before we end up boxed in here by the marines?"

"Too late for that, I'm afraid."

Shanks' haki flared when the unfamiliar voice was heard, drawing a hiss from Harry when his medallion burned in response. "There are a dozen of them on the other side," the pirate captain quickly informed his crew, already swimming quickly to shore. The others followed suit, glancing at the thin gap that served as both the exit and the entrance as they shook themselves relatively dry and replaced their clothes.

Harry did the same, though he had never removed any clothing in the first place and instead used a hot-air charm to dry off. There was no need to hurry, though, as far as Harry was concerned. The object of the marines' desires was in the wizard's hands so they weren't likely to leave. With such a narrow doorway, either side attempting to cross was suicidal. Currently, the two groups were locked in a stalemate, neither able to advance, with the marines at a significant advantage. The pirates had the treasure while the marines had a retreat path and a supply source. In the worst case scenario, the enemy would blockade the exit and starve or even attempt to suffocate the pirates.

He could use magic to stun the marines through the gap, but without a proper view of the enemy formation or knowledge of their numbers, he couldn't attack them all, and provoking just a few could speed up their willingness to resort to the aforementioned worst-case scenario.

"A bit of a tricky spot, hmm?" Shanks grinned. "Back away, boys." Immediately, the pirates ran away, cursing and yelling that their captain better wait just a little more. Harry barely had time to be confused by the reactions when a blast of haki, suffocating in its demand for submission, pressed harshly upon him, his consciousness going dizzy briefly before the wizard forced himself to take a deep breath and pushed it off with his magic. What was that?

A series of thumps from outside the cavern was proof of its effectiveness, nonetheless.

"Shall we?" Shanks gestured.

"Hold on," Harry frowned, drawing his wand. "_Serponsortia_." A black rattlesnake slithered from the wood and hissed menacingly at Shanks who was closest. "_Sstop that,_" Harry scolded. The snake reared back in shock and turned it head, awaiting orders. "_Go out that gap over there and inform me if there are sstill any conssciouss humans awaiting uss._"

The snake acquiesced and its disappearance behind the wall was followed by a shriek and frantic footsteps that faded quickly into the distance. "_Only a pair of men who ran off when they ssaw me. One wasss sscreaming into hiss hand while the other wass holding a long rope._"

"_I ssee. My thankss for your help._" Harry dismissed the snake with a frown. "The coast is clear for now. The screaming was a pair of marines who survived your attack, Shanks, and they ran away. They marked their path with rope and are likely calling for back-up as we speak. How do you want to proceed?"

Shanks scratched his head. "Aww, hell, I don't plan for stuff like this. That's more Beckman's thing. Let's just move, and if anyone comes at us, we'll beat them up, yeah?"

"And the men sleeping out there?"

Shanks waved a hand as if they were inconsequential. "Just leave their lead rope. It's not like they'll be waking up any time soon."

Harry shrugged. Personally, he'd take the rope since having such a large group as a potential wildcard in future battles was risky. Then again, he didn't fully understand Shanks' strength just yet. Perhaps the pirate captain was merely confident they would be down and out until the conclusion of this adventure. And so the group left, stepping over the bodies to walk briskly back to the entrance.

"He's not among them."

Shanks grinned. "No, our dear Lieutenant is not. But then, neither is the man who yelled out at us. It's possible that person has a bit of resistance to my haki."

"But not the other man who ran?" Harry questioned, stuffing the Devil Fruit into a pocket as the group approached a thin tunnel.

"The other was simply out of range at the time," Shanks shrugged. "I couldn't see him very clearly afterwards, so he must've been pretty far back in the first place."

"To see with haki. And that blast was of the Conquering King, then?"

"Haha, it seems I'm getting soft with it though, if three people stayed standing without warning."

Harry smiled at the intended compliment but inwardly seethed. Soft? If the two had been opponents, Shanks could have easily killed Harry thrice over in the time it took the wizard to recover from the authoritative haki. If the worst happened between them, or if he met another with the same ability, Harry would have to take the first attack or hurry and find a way to counter it faster. He grasped his medallion and picked up speed, subtly urging the group to break into a light run to distract them from his wandering mind. For some reason, he was sure the green fire in the metal talisman was the key to overcoming this weakness.

It didn't take long before the traveling pirates nearly collided with a small group of marines who were returning from another pathway, likely called by Den Den Mushi for backup.

"Toki, Taki!"

"On it Captain!" The duo withdrew a katana each, one right-handed and the other left. With steps moving in time, the two swept through the smaller enemy group in a typhoon of synchronized movements, leaving behind a slow rain of unconscious bodies felled by the dull edges of their swords.

"Let's keep moving, men!" Shanks encouraged. "That's not the last of them, I'll bet."

"They better not be," Ike yelled out in mock anger. "You can't keep all the rest of us from having some fun too you know!"

Harry snorted. The marines likely split off into smaller groups at each major fork in the tunnel system to cover more ground in their search for the devil fruit and Shanks. Considering how many different possible paths the pirates passed by to reach the lake, the number of marine soldiers filling the underground must be astronomical. Plenty of 'fun' to go around.

Moments later another small group of marines were found, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of pirates. Ike and Skit incapacitated the lot of them with some well-placed bullets before either group stopped moving, and the pirates smoothly continued their run, following the marines' ropes back to the exit.

The way was clear for an hour when Skit suddenly called for a halt. "Wait! Something's wrong."

The group skidded slightly on the damp ground to turn in question.

"What's up, Skit?" Shanks asked.

Skit was muttering under his breath, making frantic gestures in the air as his eyes flickered back and forth down the tunnel they were running through. Some tense seconds later, the pirate took a deep breath. "I'm quite certain we made a wrong turn somewhere."

"How?" asked another pirate, er, Locks, as he reached down to pick up the rope that continued forward. "Did the marines come in through a different entrance?"

Shanks shook his head. "How could there be another entrance? We all know how crazy Addagator is when detailing his island maps. He may not have been interested in the tunnel system, but he wouldn't make mistakes in finding openings in the island itself."

The pirates muttered anxiously to each other at the situation. Harry frowned when he realized the folly of using enemy resources before first flushing out the enemy themselves. "Shanks," he whispered, "how far can you haki see?"

"A few meters out. It's not exactly my strength."

Harry flexed his wand arm and felt for his magical reserves. Normally, even after all the casually thrown around magic he had just cast, he wouldn't feel a difference. Now there was a change, but it wasn't too significant. The wizard planned to have fun today so he decided that he wasn't going to regret it even if he near drained himself.

With that thought in mind, Harry withdrew his wand and swept it in a wide circle.

"_Homenum Revelio!_"

Magic swept out in a circle, flying meter after meter in search of human life, flashing with each success until dissipating. Harry cursed, his free hand flying out to grab Shanks by the collar of his shirt as he quickly ran back the way they came.

"Move, move, move!" he yelled out, the authority in his tone unquestionable. The pirates backtracked immediately, chased by a single marine officer's voice that came from around the corner behind them.

"Attack!"

The roar of agreement from dozens of marine soldiers thundered down the cavern walls.

**A/N: Whoo-hoo! Lots of fun to come :)**

**Thanks bunches to my beta, Indifferent Nobody, as usual.**

**10/11/2011 with 152 reviews!**


	12. Chapter 10: Blood and Battle

**A/N: Sorry for the delay.**

**Chapter 10: Blood and Battle**

Harry released Shanks, trusting the pirate to run on his own, in favor of using both hands to retrieve his eavesdropping orb from his robes. He grabbed the ball from the box before stuffing the container back into his pocket, snapping out questions in the meantime.

"Skit, which way?"

The pirate threw an arm up to point the way as he yelled, "Right turn at this fork!"

"Incendio!" Harry flicked off, lighting the navigation rope on fire. Burning the marker to stone black ashes should significantly slow down any straggling parties from reinforcing the enemy.

"Shanks, any suggestions?" the wizard asked before activating his glass orb in the hopes of picking up some information on traps and attack patterns as the Lieutenant ordered around his men.

"Skit," Shanks finally called out, "think you could maybe lead us to another wide cavern? If we go back to the entrance, there may be marines there to shoot down at us from above."

"Will do, Captain."

"Nokah, stay in the back and keep us alert on how far behind the enemy is."

"Got it, Captain," the pirate replied, slowing down slightly and pulling out a small mirror. He flicked it around at several angles before calling out, "there's a ten meter gap at the moment; we're relatively safe since the leaders of the pack don't have the guns out right now. No worries if they do though," he concluded cheekily.

"Dahaha," Shanks laughed in his carefree manner. "Your haki armor's the best, Nokah, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Left at the next fork!"

The sharp turn brought the pirate group from the pursuing army's line of vision, but it was only a matter of time. Harry's orb vibrated lightly with the attack cries of Lieutenant Rango's subordinates, only occasionally cut in with orders to ignore the burning rope, to run orderly as trained, to keep an eye out for a devil fruit, and to leave the pirate captain alone. Rango, it seemed, was just as eager for a rematch as his pirate counterpart.

"There's one cavern that's close if we take a left up ahead, but it's smaller than the entrance pit," Skit offered.

"Will it hold us twice over?"

"More than three times, less than five," the pirate confirmed.

"Perfect," Harry smiled. "That gives us room enough to maneuver while restricting the Marines."

"But less room means you can't escape from my haki," Shanks protested. "That cuts in on my most effective attack for the masses of foot soldiers. I mean, I'm not saying the nine of us can't take on just five dozen marines, but that's a lot of bodies."

Harry frowned in thought. "How good is your armaments haki?"

"I can stop bullets as long as they're not reinforced or shot point-blank."

"Then have your men enter the cavern. You stay in the passageway and cut down as many of the Marines as you can before joining up. Wait, first pull in your haki as much as possible."

Harry cast a light sticking charm on Shanks' hands followed by a disillusionment charm. As the magic trickled down the pirate captain's body, its effect flickered slightly before finally settling, successfully turning Shanks into a human chameleon.

"The left turn is coming," a pirate yelled, urging the group on faster.

"Alright Shanks, I'm going to levitate you to the ceiling of the cavern. Your hands should stick tight. Release your conquering haki when you think the time is right. The effects of the sticking and camouflage will break the moment you let your haki out, so be prepared and keep a tight hold on it until you're ready."

"Got it."

The pirates filed into the cavern while Harry stuck Shanks to the ceiling and quickly flew himself up as well. The idea of having the pirate captain fall into a large group of marines alone when the spells broke made Harry uneasy, so instead the wizard stuck himself a meter away and cast a powerful Protego in front of himself in hopes that it would lessen the effect of Shanks' haki.

Less than a minute later the pirates could hear the Marine soldiers thundering down the tunnel. Fortunately for the Red-Hair pirates, their enemies' large size was a disadvantage when navigating the changing pathways, but now that the actual fighting was due, some weeding would be necessary.

"HAAH!"

Startled by the loud cry from above, several marines glanced upwards towards the sound and were caught off-guard by the wave of haki, sending over half their numbers tumbling to the ground unconscious. Both Harry and Shanks dropped as the haki blew away the magic spells but were able to run into the cave in the confusion.

"Not so fast," the Lieutenant growled. With a quick draw, he slid his sword from its sheath and attacked the pirate captain, clipping the man's shirt as he rolled past the grotto entrance.

Jumping to his feet, Shanks turned back and drew his saber with a smirk. "Let's go, men!"

"Marines, attack!"

Battle cries erupted as the two groups collided and clashed with swords and knives, most choosing to forgo firearms in the tight area. The Marines clearly outnumbered the outlaws, entering the cave in waves, though it didn't do them much good as the pirates swiftly cut them down. The dead and unconscious bodies littered across the stone room's entrance, impeding the Marines' progress.

Lieutenant Rango, recognizing the debilitating effect of Shanks' haki on his men, pushed the pirate captain away from the cavern entrance towards the back of the room. The pirate crew, familiar with their captain's idea of fun, steered clear as well.

A sweep from the right was easily deflected by a vertical parry followed by a diagonal slash in return that was ducked under in favor of carrying out a strike from below across the chest. Harry watched the fight with appraising eyes for a few moments, following the glinting swords and humming in surprise when certain strikes left no mark due to both participants' apparent mastery of their haki as armor.

The wizard, however, wasn't satisfied being just a spectator. Glancing around the enclosed area with distaste, he apparated out into the tunnel at the back of the marine company.

Casting a disillusionment charm, he immediately silenced the few marines alerted by the cracking sound of his travel with clean cuts across the throat. This did, however, have the unfortunate effect of splashing blood on his camouflaged body. Harry quickly dispelled the first spell and recast it, the image of his body flickering into view before it disappeared once more. Grasping dagger and throwing knives in his assured grip, he slid through the gaps of the crowd and attacked.

The gurgling of Harry's first victim as he fell to the ground, hands futilely holding back the blood gushing from his jugular vein, alerted the others to the attacker in their midst. The six soldiers not yet engaged in battle with pirates turned around, eyes searching for the enemy. As Harry flickered again to hide the new blood stains, they immediately attacked, only to find no one there and another of their numbers down, this time with a throwing knife in his eye.

In less than five minutes, Harry killed another two and knocked the others unconscious with heavy blows to the neck. Inside the cave, the pirates were finished as well and gathered along the walls, patching various injuries as they cheered their captain on.

"Done already?" Harry asked cheerfully, dropping down next to the katana wielding duo Toki and Taki, wiping off his dagger on the shirt of a fallen Marine before returning it to his robes.

"Most of them were rookies," Toki snorted.

"Weak," Taki added.

"That's not too surprising," Harry replied, "since their Lieutenant was only recently relocated to the Grand Line. No major injuries then? You'd think the marines would have some fighting formations or some such to better use their advantage in sheer numbers."

"Some," Taki admitted, showing his bleeding arm that Toki was tying off with a strip of cloth from his ripped shirt.

"That's the other good part of Captain's haki. Most teams aren't formed based on the strength of their wills. If half a team's members are taken down before the real fight, any formation is just too filled with holes to work against us. To fight Grand Line pirates at their level would require specialized strategizing they clearly didn't do."

"Well, their leader didn't know we had the same goal until this morning. Speaking of which, how much longer do you think they'll keep fighting?"

Toki and Taki traded looks before replying with dubious expressions. "It really depends on the captain," Toki explained. "Normally, in such a situation, you would expect the Lieutenant to feel anxious about being the only marine still standing, but he seems to have completely forgotten about all his men. Captain, on the other hand, is having a lot of fun, so…"

"A long time," Taki concluded.

"That's no good," Harry frowned, giving a sweeping glance around the cave. The fight was much shorter than he expected, and he didn't like the idea of sitting around just because someone was purposefully dragging their duel out.

"Oi, Shanks," he yelled out swinging back to his feet. "Wrap it up already, alright? What if the fruit in my pocket rots, huh?"

Shanks laughed, and with a lightening quick flick, reversed the sweep of his saber to attack the Lieutenant's sword. The blade fell from the marine's hands to the floor with a dull clatter.

"Devil fruits don't rot, Harry," Shanks grinned, holding his blade against his opponent's throat. Lieutenant Rango scowled for a moment, gritting his teeth in the humiliation of his loss, before his body slackened.

"Ensign," he barked, "the objective is here with an unidentified male of black hair and green eyes. Blow that ship into wood chips."

In shock and anger, Shanks stabbed his blade into the marine's shoulder, ignoring the smothered scream of pain as he reached into a bulging pocket and retrieved a Den Den Mushi.

"It seems we'd better return to Beckman," Shanks commented lightly, tugging his saber free and replacing it at the side of his hip. "I doubt he's in any trouble, but let's not underestimate the dirty tricks up a Marine's sleeve simply because they're the law. You ready Skit?" he called out towards the man who finished taping close a wound on his leg.

"No prob, Captain," he saluted, shoving himself up from his place on the floor. The group fell into a quick pace back to the pit hole.

"_Homenum Revelio!"_

There was thankfully no ambush of marines waiting for them and the pirates clambered up the rock face. Harry followed along behind them, choosing to conserve his magic.

A path through the forest had already been cleared by the Marines, so the group cut through easily along the obstacle-free trail. Soon enough, the booming of cannonball fire could be heard. The group picked up the pace and skidded across the beach where they saw the Red Hair Pirate ship engaged in battle with a small fleet of three Marine ships. Yassop was sniping from the crow's nest and the deck had a few people dashing around to put out fires and retrieve the occasional cannonball. Beckman and Lucky Roo had both somehow or another landed on enemy ships and were cutting down the enemy numbers. The others, Harry could only assume, were down below firing the cannons.

"In the boats then," Harry advised with a smile, "and don't bother with the paddles."

The pirates piled into the two rowboats they had used to dock on the island and Harry tapped them both twice with his wand, propelling the boats quickly to the mother ship. A stray cannonball was shockingly reflected away from the group by a punch from Nokah and they arrived at their destination with no additional trouble.

"Captain!"

"Captain, you've returned!"

"Captain, orders sir?"

"Ahoy, there Captain! Come to join the fun?"

The pirates aboard the ship greeted their captain before continuing their duties. Shanks glanced around at his vessel first and then looked outwards at the enemy fleet. Finally, he turned back towards the treasure hunting team that was pulling up the rowboats from the ocean.

"Well men, do what you like. I'll be taking on that extra ship there." Shanks pointed to the lead ship Beckman and Lucky Roo had left alone with a broad grin before shucking off his shirt and jumping overboard.

"He plans on swimming across?" Harry asked skeptically, looking overboard in hopes of a better glimpse at Shanks' half-naked body. He made a mental note to get a good look upon the pirate captain's return, since he would doubtless be a sexy sight with his wet hair and trousers clinging to his skin.

Toki and Taki shrugged. "Yes," Taki answered succinctly.

"Captain likes swimming," Toki explained, "and it works. He just needs to climb up the ship side, usually with a pair of daggers for hand holds if there's no rope ladder, and he's on the deck, ready to fight. Plus, it's not that far, really."

Harry shook his head with a chuckle. Not far indeed. It was at least a hundred meters distance in rough waters by Harry's estimation. "How does he still have his hat on? No, never mind. I'm going for a better view of the fight." He swung up the rigging to the crow's nest and landed beside Yassop who was lying on the floor beside a rifle.

"Welcome back," Yassop smiled, loading another bullet. "A triumphant return, I hope?"

"Of course," Harry grinned. "And ready to help the allies in distress, yeah?"

"Pfft," the sniper pirate scoffed, patting the long barrel of his current weapon . "I'm afraid that at this distance, your little knives won't help much. Even I needed to switch from my pistols."

Harry just hummed, patting down his robes before reaching into an inner pocket. "It's true throwing knives wouldn't work in this kind of situation," he admitted. "The distance makes it impossible to time the throw accurately for the weapon to hits its target blade first. But if the problem is limited to needing power to reach greater distances, well, an alternative propulsion method is simple enough." He pulled out leather pouch of throwing stars, etched with runes. "Ah, it's been ages since I've needed to use these. I wonder if I'm still any good."

The wizard gripped one firmly between thumb and forefinger and squinted, wishing not for the first time that it were possible to add a vision zooming charm to his glasses. Hermione had quite a lecture about how such a feature was impractical and dangerous, however, so he pushed the thought from his mind and aimed at the small human figure he could make out tying the sails up on top of the bow side mast.

Evidence that his aim was true came a minute later when the small silhouette was observed tumbling down to the deck from a dangerous height. That particular Marine would be out of the fight for quite some time. Yassop whistled in admiration.

"I'm going to have to make more of these," Harry muttered to himself, fanning out his remaining stars and frowning when he counted less than two dozen. 'Especially with my magic handicapped in this world,' he thought. 'Of course, with restricted magic come a restricted number of runes I can carve in one sitting. So irritating.'

"Ah!" the wizard half sighed and half yelled in exasperation. He put the stars away and flopped to the floor of the lookout platform. 'I wonder how much longer I can last without a proper preparation period,' he thought to himself. 'To think I haven't cast a single battle spell and I've already used so much magic resources.'

"Would you like a gun?" Yassop offered, when it became clear Harry wasn't going to use any more of his magic throwing stars.

Harry winced. "That's, er, not a good idea. Guns in my hands explode like firecrackers with more or less the same damage depending on how much gunpowder is loaded in it."

Yassop raised an eyebrow – Merlin, could everyone do that but him, Harry wondered – and gave a skeptical click of his tongue. "If you say so," he accepted, before turning back to fire another shot.

The sky was delicate blue with clouds, and smoke floated gently across in shades of white and gray as Harry gazed upwards. He settled in for a long wait as the battle raged beneath him.

Who was he kidding? Harry Potter, the Man-Who-Conquered, did not just wait around in the middle of a fight just because his magic was low and his supplies limited. Summoning up his energy, the wizard apparated aboard the lead ship with a loud crack. Here, he'd likely find the officer in charge, that Ensign ranked Marine the Lieutenant was ordering.

And it didn't hurt that Shanks was due to arrive any second now, soaking wet and shirtless.

**A/N: So the Red Hair Pirates kick ass :) **

**The first adventure is finally about to be wrapped up! I'll probably give Harry one more cool fight scene and then move on and get to fixing the millions of side plots I've got going on, haha. Especially Harry and Shanks' relationship ;)**

**Thanks bunches to my beta, Indifferent Nobody, for her amazingly thorough work.**

**11/7/11 with 163 reviews!**


	13. Chapter 11: Victory

**A/N: Happy New Year!**

**Chapter 11**

**Victory**

The ship at first glance was rather bare. At the base of the front mast was a marine soldier trying to stem the bleeding in his side, a familiar throwing star at his side. His leg was also bent at an unnatural angle, likely broken from his fall. Harry also just barely spotted another two marines when one ran into the captain's cabin and another down into the cargo hold, likely to raise the alarm on the invader's presence.

Harry didn't have to wait long, his fingers barely touching metal as he bent to pick up his rune engraved weapon, before an officer emerged, weapons drawn.

"Well, well, well," the man drawled, lightly twirling his short blades. They were similar to katanas as far as Harry could tell, but much shorter, so they should instead be called something else. Wakizashi? Kodachi? Well, it didn't really matter. "An unidentified male of black hair and green eyes, I presume? How kind of you to bring the fruit directly to me."

Harry slid a pair of daggers into his hands. Finally a face to match the voice that announced the marines' presence back in the cavern with the glowing lake, the voice of one who was resistant to Shanks' haki. The black-haired, brown-eyed man was lower ranked than Rango, but definitely more dangerous than the foot soldiers the wizard had been taking on until now.

In a flash, the ensign sprinted towards Harry, blades both held at his right side. As he neared his target, quick footwork shifted the attacker's body to the leftt and the two blades came down one following the other towards his opponent's neck. Harry just barely stepped back far enough to dodge the first sword. The marine reflexively stepped forward to bring his second attack closer. In the moment between attacks, Harry brought both daggers up over his head in a 'v' shape and caught the second sword in his own blades.

As the marine's right arm froze, caught in the momentum of his attack and his follow through halted, Harry twisted his daggers and lifted a leg to kick his attacker's wrist. The combined movement disarmed the marine who used the wizard's close proximity to do a follow-up attack with his left, drawing first blood from Harry's leg before he managed to twist away.

"Impressive," Harry acknowledged, kicking the blade he stole further away from the two and casting a healing charm on the cut. Healing was not one of Harry's talents, but the simple episky was enough to stem the bleeding.

"You as well," the ensign smiled, switching his remaining sword from his left to his right hand before rushing forward once more. It often took both of Harry's daggers to deflect the powerful attacks, keeping the wizard on the defensive as his reach with his short blades was minimal. In a way, it would have been better to fight someone wielding a longer weapon as that would leave larger openings for Harry to take advantage of. After a few minutes of failed attempts to disarm the marine of his final blade, Harry switched tactics.

Letting his arms down, the wizard halted any defensive blocks, depending instead on his reflexes to keep out of harm's way while he tried to decide what to do.

Killing this man with magic would take but a thought. Sectumsempra, Diffindo, Reducto, Avada Kedavra. Even a simple mutter of Confundus would easily give Harry an edge to deal the finishing blow. But killing an officer with an ability that this world had never before seen would have different consequences than killing foot soldiers with knives and daggers. Rango was already spreading awareness of his ability to apparate as a possible devil fruit ability, though apparently has yet to connect it with his appearance since the lieutenant described him to his subordinate as "unidentified."

As for just using the confounding charm option or a tripping jinx, well, it felt a little disrespectful for a fight where nothing important was on the line.

Seconds then minutes ticked past as the marine attacked and Harry dodged, the former growing increasingly more impatient and frustrated, punctuating his slashes through the air with growls and grunts.

"Man, you guys started without me? You've got to stop stealing my fights, Harry."

Harry apparated towards the voice to the utter shock of his opponent, landing a mere foot away from the railing where Shanks stood, dripping water from his hair. The pirate captain ruffled a hand through it, splattering droplets around before replacing his hat which was slightly wet and misshapen, but otherwise alright.

Harry gave Shanks an obvious glance over. A bare chest was infinitely better than the view he saw under the shirt wet from the rain when leaving Bloom Island.

"Don't pout," Harry finally replied, when the pirate started to fidget under the steady gaze. "There are plenty of soldiers down below with the cannons for you to play with. Though, I'm tempted to simply keep you here. The view would be wasted on that lot."

Shanks stuck out his tongue. "What a boring idea. Enjoy your fight, I suppose." And he loped off, taking his delectable body with him.

It was just as the wizard heard himself sigh in disappointment that he realized this was one conquest he wasn't simply going to let go because the target was a little unwilling. If Shanks was against relationships between crew members, Harry would just have to make it clear he wouldn't _be_ a crew member.

"Shall we continue then?" Harry asked with nonchalance as he summoned his belt of throwing knives and strapped it on. He didn't wait for an answer before tossing two groups of four blades through the air, already running to a new location for a new angle of attack.

Rather than attempt to block the many knives flying at him, the marine ducked under, only to be attacked by another series of knives when Harry anticipated that reaction. The officer was forced to stab his sword into the deck and sweep his jacket from his shoulders to block the hail of blades before gripping his sword once more and rushing at his opponent to close the distance and regain his close-quarters advantage.

The knives simply continued to rain down and as the marine obscured his own vision with his jacket to reflect the blades, Harry moved to a new position and hurled his knives from there.

"So you're the man with the teleportation trick," the ensign drawled when he failed to draw any closer to his target. He was instead resorting to a more desperate ploy of buying time with conversation. "I should have guessed. The Lieutenant described you as best as he remembered which was mainly about your fashion sense. I can't imagine many people who even try to pull off, how did he put it, 'black leather bath robes?'"

Brown eyes flickered to follow Harry who was circling his prey, partially to stay in motion during this lull in the fight and partially for the psychological impact of the action. Harry couldn't deliver a sure kill with his knives long distance, and likewise the marine couldn't get close enough for decent attack either. However, in this theoretical stalemate, Harry was the one with more freedom of movement and thus the one with the upper hand.

The wizard chose not to respond to the question, seeing no advantage in doing so. The silence would unnerve the other, and perhaps even pressure him to continue talking, continue offering information to fill the silence and buy time to plan his attack. The poor man wasn't aware his chances of winning were nil, and that only Harry's temporary decision to refrain from magic use kept the playing field even remotely level.

Was it wrong, Harry wondered to himself, to have fun playing with a weaker opponent?

_Only because it was dangerous._ How many times had Voldemort failed to kill him because he prioritized his own enjoyment over the goal? Winners can only continue to be victorious if they learn from the mistakes of both allies and enemies, past and present. As soon as this man lost his usefulness, Harry would strike him down, because that was the way of survival.

As if understanding the more primal tone the fight had just taken on, the ensign rushed at the wizard who quickly threw his knives. This time, the marine did not use his jacket as a cloth shield, instead rolling under the blades towards his opponent. Rushing forward, he sprinted towards the air in front of Harry. Believing the marine planned to cut him off along his circling path, the wizard halted his steps, only to see the jacket be swept towards his head as its owner ran past.

Harry fell to the ground under the fluttering cloth. The marine, with quick footwork, spun his body around to attack with his sword. Reflexes more than training or experience had Harry shooting a foot out, kicking the arm that arced towards him. The short katana flew from the attacked grip, but Harry didn't stop there. Lunging out with his arm, he grabbed the marine's outstretched arm, throwing him to the ground face first and chopping hard at the back of the neck with the edge of his hand.

The fight was over.

Half an hour later, Shanks joined Harry on the railing of the marine ship, watching the pirate ship sail towards them as the rest of the crew wrapped up their fights. They were picked up soon enough, amidst cheering and drunken singing as the pirates already started the celebration party. What was left of the day was spent looting marine fleet and emptying barrels of beer.

"To Harry!" Shanks grinned, after a dozen or so toasts. "How about it Harry, did you enjoy your adventure?"

"Immensely," Harry grinned back, chugging down his tankard and holding it out for a refill.

"Then," Shanks continued, edging closer with an angling expression. "How about you join my crew? There'll certainly never be a dull moment!"

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh of regret. "I'm afraid not, Shanks."

The pirate captain blinked a few times. "Well I'm afraid I won't accept that answer," he replied petulantly.

Harry laughed, loud and deep.

"Not even going to ask why, huh? That's fine, but the answer's still no." Flicking out a hand, the wizard plucked the straw hat off of Shanks' head. As the pirate opened his mouth to protest, Harry surged forward, locking lips with the rougher pair of the pirate captain that were chapped from his life in the sea air but deliciously warm from exercise, alcohol, and general cheer. The kiss was brief but forceful, leaving no doubt of Harry's physical desire for the other man. He pulled away before Shanks reacted, positively or otherwise, and dropped the straw hat over the man's head and face, obscuring the gaping shock displayed.

"Here's my question, Shanks," Harry breathed into the pirate's ear, "and you'll find that I can be much more stubborn about not accepting no for an answer."

He walked away amidst the hooting and wolf-whistles of the pirates who immediately began to tease their captain. Said captain was found flushed red under his hat, though that could be somewhat attributed to the large amount of alcohol he chugged before finally showing his face to his crew.

The next day, Harry was one of the few who awoke early morning without a hangover. He didn't drink any more alcohol after kissing Shanks, having a great deal of wariness about the dangers of being drunk. True, he didn't think anyone aboard the pirate ship wanted him dead, but habits could be very powerful.

He found Beckman and Addams in the Navigation room, also relatively bright-eyed, one chewing a dying cigarette and the other scribbling in a notebook, conversing over a series of detailed island maps.

"Good morning," Harry greeted. "What are you two up to so early in the morning?"

"Morning Harry," Beckman replied. "Navigator Addams and I were just discussing his drop off at his new home. He's rather partial to Kuraigana Island, but I don't think Mihawk would enjoy the company."

Harry tilted his head to the side in thought. "Mihawk, I've heard that name before, I think. Just who is he?"

"He's commonly known as the Greatest Swordsman in the World," Beckman described briefly, "so he and Captain often spar with their blades."

"Huh, interesting. Well, I have seen Shanks' skill for myself. The whole crew is filled with incredibly talented individuals, really," Harry complimented.

Beckman raised an eyebrow – which Harry pointedly ignored – with a hint of suspicion. "Exactly what do you mean to say by that?"

The wizard merely blinked owlishly before changing the subject. "What are the plans for the next few days then?"

Beckman lit a new cigarette in the pause and let the jump in topics slide. "Mostly repairs on the ship, maybe some sorting through the loot. Our latest opponents were a retrieval team, not a pirate hunting fleet, so there won't be much in the way of treasure confiscated from previous pirates, but we gained an extra Bird Island eternal pose, for sure."

"Speaking of loot," Harry reached into a pocket for the devil fruit and tossed it over to Beckman who caught it lightly in his right hand. "Since not much will be going on, would it be a problem if I leave the day after tomorrow?"

"We can't sail to any civilized islands in just two days while repairing the ship," the navigator interjected.

Harry shrugged. "You don't need to. I'll just pop myself back to that island you found me at. That was South Blue, right? Obviously sailing the Grand Line alone is suicidal, but exploring the cardinal seas should be simple enough."

Beckman and Addams had little to say to that beyond a general air of surprise that he was capable of traveling such large distances. To be honest, Harry was also surprised that after so long, there still wasn't a single pirate who questioned the origin of his strange power. Did they honestly just not care?

The rest of the day, Harry helped with the repairs, wandering from site to site of ongoing construction to spread word of his plans to leave soon. The following morning, he picked up his dittany plants from Freddy, did another marksmanship show with Yassop, lost a spar against the team of Toki and Taki – the latter of whom performed much more coordinated with his katana partner than during the long ago game of keep-away Harry initiated with a bunch of the other pirates – wrapped up English lessons with Beckman, and enjoyed the farewell feast prepared by George.

Shanks was missing through it all, not even seen during the drinking competitions that erupted at the end of dinner. All the alcohol sent the entirety of his crew to the floor and even Greg, who took his usual place in the crow's nest as night lookout, drifted off into muzzy unconsciousness.

It was perhaps two or three in the morning when Harry and Shanks met up at the ship's figurehead. The two silently clambered aboard the dragon and listened to the ocean.

"I didn't take you for a romantic, Shanks," Harry teased. "Starry sky, calm seas, the two of us alone in the moonlight; are you trying to woo me into a dainty little courtship?"

Shanks snorted. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm most certainly not doing anything of the sort," Harry scoffed with comic arrogance and disdain. "I'm currently seducing you for the purpose of convincing you that your cock belongs in my arse, preferably repeatedly, until your crew mutinies from the sight out of pure jealousy that they aren't getting any."

There was a moment of silence as Harry's words conjured images in both men's minds. Finally, Harry abruptly pulled the pirate captain over his body as he lay back on the figurehead, grinding his hips up into Shanks' with a devilish smile.

"Tell me, Shanks," Harry whispered, activating enchantments on his robes to transfigure the mass of tough leather into a set of bands around his wrist, leaving him in an undershirt and trousers. After all, if this was going where he wanted it to, he didn't want to lose his robes. It also had the added advantage of revealing more of his body. "Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you don't desire this. Tell me you aren't interested in making me use my mouth to slick your cock and fingers before you take me right here just inches from falling into your beloved ocean while I scream your name."

Shanks growled in return, leaning down to capture the wizard's lips in a rough kiss, one hand holding himself up while the other fumbled with his clothes, tossing back his coat and hat onto the ship's deck, before tearing away at what clothes were left on Harry's body.

It was nothing short of miraculous the sounds a crew of drunken pirates could sleep through.

**A/N: No detailed sex scenes yet :P**

**My beta, Indifferent Nobody, is MIA! It's very sad :( However, my old Pirate Potter beta, RedValentino, had volunteered to fill in for a bit, so thanks go to her for her work on this chapter!**

**184 reviews, 1/1/12**

**My new year's resolution is to update more regularly -_-;;**


	14. Chapter 12: Another Beginning

**A/N: As you can see, I'm failing miserably with my new year's resolution...**

**Chapter 12: Another Beginning**

"Good morning, Captain," Beckman greeted when he saw Shanks, oddly hatless, sitting on the figurehead, before his task of rousing the hung over crew. "We missed you last night."

Shanks chuckled. "Well, the lot of you just missed Harry's good-bye."

Beckman paused, his rifle smacking down onto Sou, who wriggled and cursed before sitting up to give the first mate a bleary-eyed glare.

"That was rather abrupt," Beckman finally responded, sounding somewhat amused with Harry's rude behavior. "I wonder if we'll meet again."

The pirate captain hopped onto the deck, sweeping his straw hat from off the floor to place on his head. "A guy like that can't stay quiet for long," he replied with an anticipatory tone of voice. "We'll meet him again on the Grand Line sometime."

Shanks looked over his staggering crew under the rapidly rising sun. "Oi, you lazy louts! The sea is waiting. I've got a lot of places I'd like to visit before the Addagator bails on us too," he teased with a grin. The Red-Haired Pirates were adventurers of the ocean, and there was no doubt they would cross paths again with their newest friend in the near future.

The metal circle glinted as Harry raised it up into the sky, lounging in what had been a purple tree. Apparently, when autumn passes through, purple trees turned pink. Albus would have approved, Harry thought, as he charmed a few of them with temporary green polka-dots.

But returning to the talisman. Harry turned it over a few times, admiring the symbols carved on the one side. The objects overlaying the triangle corners apparently represented the three abilities of haki, which was quite appropriate, considering what Harry believed the disc was currently holding.

He had many questions of course. Was that green fire really haki? What was it trying to do as he entered this world? How would he get it out of its new home? Could Harry use this new power, and if so, how would it affect his already weakened magic?

Questions for another time, Harry decided, when jolting the metal circle with magic had no effect. Wouldn't it be just typical of the Potter Luck if it only responded to haki, like back in the cave with Shanks?

Mm, Shanks. The thought pleased Harry as he stretched languidly to feel the lingering soreness from their night together. There was something incredibly heady about the experience of having sex with someone so close to his own power level. The haki and magic and _pure lust_ that hung in the air was so delicious that Harry was tempted at another go.

Which was why he left without waiting for the other pirates to wake up. The last time he favored a fuck buddy too often, she grew attached, leading to a rather uncomfortable breaking of relations when Harry was unable to make it clear he didn't feel that way. Harry always regretted it. She was a good friend and a passionate lover and his own carelessness with her feelings led to a great deal of emotional pain for the woman.

Harry wandered back into town, smiling at the look of shock on the baker's face at his sudden return after so long. He chatted a bit with the man, spinning a simple tale to explain both his disappearance and return, before buying a loaf of bread and moving on. The grocer was similarly shocked, as well as somewhat relieved.

"Well hello again," she greeted. "Thank goodness. For some time I was afraid the pirates had taken you."

Harry suppressed a grin at how accurate that statement really was and instead displayed casual reassurance. "Oh no, I apologize if I worried you, but I met a fisherman willing to take me on his boat for a few months. He had to leave more permanently yesterday, though, so I've returned, hoping to find some other way of traveling around. It seems I should have planned ahead a bit more," he continued sheepishly, his mind weaving a yet incomplete plan. "With fall passing so quickly, it's harder to find someone willing to humor my carefree ways, and I never bothered to buy my own boat."

"A boat," the grocer echoed thoughtfully, wiping a red apple until it gleamed. "How big a boat were you thinking?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing too big, I don't think. It's really just for me, and I'm rather confident in my fishing abilities so I won't need much room for carrying food supplies. As long as it can hold a sail, I'd be pretty satisfied."

"Hmm, I might be able to help you there," the woman finally offered. "It will depend on Jacob, but I don't think he'll disagree. He doesn't have much time to go out sailing anymore, but hasn't the heart to throw away our old craft. It has a few years left in it, especially with how carefully my man takes care of it."

"Really, you mean it? That'd be wonderful, ma'am! Thank you ever so much," Harry gushed, making the other woman blush with embarrassment.

"Alright, alright, young man. Come back at around noon; my husband never outgrew that honeymoon period and likes to visit during the lunch hour so I'll ask him then. Just have a bit more foresight next time, yes? You can't charm everyone out there with your sweet-boy airs," she mock scolded.

"Why ma'am," Harry exclaimed with exaggerated shock and confusion. "I'm sure I haven't any idea what you mean."

The pair shared a laugh before Harry left. The wizard wasn't under any misunderstanding that the boat would come free, so he had some major counterfeiting to do before the appointed time. He had learned from Beckman the value of a beli, and his current stash duplicated from the baker all those weeks ago really was just pocket money. Perhaps he could find some larger bills to duplicate in the wallets of traders. They bought goods in bulk after all, so it wasn't too far a stretch to assume they had large denomination money as well. A light Confundus and some permanent Geminios would go a long way.

Perhaps a bit too long a way. Harry left the main stockroom in a state of confusion as the head trader mixed a few orders before recovering enough to start yelling at his workers to pack the boxes the other way around. The counterfeit mission, though, was a success.

The ten grand bills were quite funny looking, in Harry's opinion, and a bit confusing. Decorating such a high value with the image of a skull in a hat and high collared coat clashed with the World Government's well-known hatred of pirates. Surely it wasn't supposed to represent some politician rather than the Jolly Roger of the outlaws? Even the hundred beli coin had a skull, though the ten beli coin had a seagull like the ones that symbolized the marines. The wizard decided not to dwell on it too much, lest his mind weave some sort of conspiracy theory involving secret pirate communication through a planted agent in the official printing factory of the green notes and bronze coins.

"An apple, please," Harry ordered, offering a coin in payment. The grocer looked up and smiled when she saw the wizard, happily finishing the transaction before turning towards the back of her shop.

"Jacob, he's here."

A stocky male with blond hair and blue eyes emerged from the shade of the shop to blink a few times with interest at Harry before furrowing his brows in confusion at the wizard's strange dress. For those who weren't familiar with the concept of battle robes – pretty much everyone in this world – they did have the effect of making him look more delicate by hiding his muscle structure. Perhaps he should have refitted it into something more masculine by muggle standards? Well, it was too late for that.

"I'm Harry," he introduced himself, holding out a hand.

"Jacob," the other replied, grasping the offered limb in a handshake that Harry was careful to return firmly with confidence and strength, but no aggression. He wanted to make the impression that he could take care of himself but had no interest in provoking anyone.

"It's good to meet you Jacob," Harry smiled. "Your wife speaks fondly of you, and mentioned that you might be able to help me in this little predicament I've found myself in."

"Ya need a boat, yeah?" Jacob confirmed. "Well, I don't think it's an exaggeration to say my wife speaks pretty fondly of ya as well, but, uh, how much experience ya got with sailing?"

"I'm no novice, if that's what you're afraid of," the wizard chuckled, as he stretched the truth a little. "I can navigate by the stars and handle a sail on my own." It was partially true. His knowledge of the stars was rather extensive as a result of his astronomy education in Hogwarts and his time with the pirates lent towards many observable instances of one or two people sailing a vessel about the size of a rowboat. He had just never done it himself before. With the ability to conjure wind, though, Harry wasn't too worried about his lack of experience.

"I think I can make ya an offer then. Come on, and I'll show what I've got."

Jacob stepped onto the worn road and gestured towards the docks. "I've the boat stored in a friend's stockroom as a favor to me, and I'm sure he'll be glad to get that space back again," he chuckled.

"How big is the boat?" Harry asked as he followed, not too worried since he could tweak that with magic, but wanting to maintain polite conversation as well as present himself as someone respectfully interested in the business they were negotiating.

"It's a small sailboat built for two. One sailor is enough to handle the sail, though, and I've squeezed in three additional passengers before," Jacob replied, taking a turn upon reaching the port towards the large storage buildings that stood in a line facing the sea. "This way."

"Oi, Mars!" Jacob called out from the door before weaving his way through the bustle of laborers carrying crates and barrels of goods. "Ya here, or what?"

"Jacob!" A tall and muscled man emerged from an upstairs room and quickly descended the steps with a grin. "And what brings you here on a workday? You aren't slacking off, are you?" he teased.

Jacob snorted and gave his friend a playful shove in return when he stepped close enough. "It's my lunch hour, Mars, I ain't slacking. And even if I was, which I ain't, ya should be happy for it, 'cause I'm here for the possibility of clearing out that space I've been borrowing off of ya."

"Oh-ho," Mars chuckled, "and is this prospective heir?" he asked, leaning sideways to peer at Harry who was standing back to the side of Jacob during this conversation, examining the workings of the building.

"My wife found him," Jacob explained wryly, as Harry introduced himself to Mars with a handshake. "Said he was looking for a boat so here we are. Where've ya got her tucked away now?"

"This way," Mars gestured, nodding his head towards the near wall. In the corner by the door was a cloth covered object. Jacob pulled away the sheet with a large, sweeping motion, revealing a small sailboat with a tall mast, the sail rolled neatly in a plastic bag under one of the seats.

Harry laid a hand on the side of the boat and rubbed the wood, pleased to feel it's smooth and dry, waxed surface. It was indeed small enough for him alone to sail. He had no need for extensive storage room since he could shrink anything too big and fresh water was always just an Aguamenti away, so this was perfect for his needs.

"How much?" the wizard asked, crouching down to feel the bottom.

"Twenty five grand," Jacob replied.

Harry chuckled, standing up to lean over the side and examine the interior. "This is hardly a new boat," he trailed off. He was unwilling to state too low a counteroffer since he wasn't certain how much a boat like this should go for, but knew enough about marketing to never go for the first offered price. It's times like these when Legillimancy would come in handy, but Harry was, quite frankly, awful with the mental arts.

The boat _was_ well made and maintained. The bottom was freshly caulked to prevent water leakage, the sail was sturdy, and Harry found a pair of oars on the boat floor as well.

It's not like Harry couldn't afford to part with the money, right?

"Twenty grand if you help me get it in the water," Harry finally offered.

Jacob shrugged. "Fair enough. Ya got a spare dock for us to use, Mars?"

"Season's almost over, Jake," Mars clapped a hand on the other man's shoulder. "I've got plenty of room. Take the third post to the right. How long will you need?"

Jacob looked at Harry for an answer.

"Just for the day," Harry replied. "I'll buy some food and be on my way."

Jacob and Harry each grabbed an end of the boat and slowly lugged it to the sea. Dropping it into the water, the vessel was tied to the dock and the money discretely handed over. It wouldn't do for someone to see and attempt to rob either of them later today.

Rations were obtained easily enough, the town being experienced in the food sailors need. As the sun set, Harry climbed into his new boat with a bag of apples, two barrels of water, half a barrel of smoked meat, a bag of hardtack, and a loaf of fresh bread. There were few people around, so he collected the rope, lifted the sail, and – eyes on the rising stars – kick-started his travel with a steady Ventus to take him away.

"Outta the way, move it! Someone get the doctor!"

"What's going on? Did those hoodlums get into another fight with each other?"

"Hah! Yeah, right. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Harry ducked around the gathering crowd. From the occasional gaps in the people, he saw a bunch of teenage boys on the ground, all rather beat up. Whatever it was that happened, it certainly looked like they lost.

The wizard kept walking, soon finding himself wandering through the woods on this island. Thankfully, the trees resembled the oak trees back home in both shape and color, so he wasn't blinded by his surroundings. East Blue apparently wasn't crazy enough to have neon vegetation.

As winter approached in South Blue and he started waking up in the mornings with frost on his sail, Harry decided it would be best to travel elsewhere. He reached the edge of the Calm Belt and apparated himself and his belongings north the hundreds of kilometers Addams estimated as the combined width of the Grand Line and Calm Belts. The trip to East Blue was successful, though draining, and Harry managed to skip the winter season altogether.

"Ace!" Harry heard a voice yell and followed it out of curiosity. "What did you do down there in town? There's a right ruckus going on – everyone's talking about how the town hoodlums got half-killed by a child!"

It was an old man in a Hawaiian shirt, yelling at a small boy who had his legs dangling off the edge of a small cliff.

"Damn," the kid cursed dryly, turning his head to reveal his scratched face. "They're not dead then?"

The man stared in shock at this cold reply before laughing it off. "Bwahahaha!" he roared. "Oi, Ace! I hear you've been getting up to some real tricks lately, eh?"

The boy turned back to watch the ocean, drawing up his legs from the edge to tuck them near his chest. "Hey, old man –"

"I told you already, didn't I?" the man interrupted. "Call me Gramps."

"… Gramps, you have a grandson, right? How is he? Is he happy?"

"Luffy? He's coming along nicely," the man said proudly.

The boy, Ace, didn't say anything for awhile, looking down at his feet in thought.

"Gramps," he finally spoke again, "do you think I really should have been born?"

'Gramps' looked at the boy with a solemn expression, letting himself fall down into a seated position a few feet behind the child. "That kind of thing," he sighed, "you only find out by living."

The two sat there for a bit before the elder swing himself up on his feet and cracked his spine.

"Well, my holiday's just about over."

Ace snorted. "You took three days off," he stated.

"Exactly! Just thinking of how many pirates have been roaming free these three days makes my blood boil. You take care of yourself, Ace." And with that, the old man left back in the direction of town.

Harry climbed up a tree and watched the boy who stayed put on the ledge.

_Do you think I really should have been born?_

What an odd question for such a young boy to ask. Then again, he'd asked himself that once before when Uncle Vernon tossed him in his cupboard for being underfoot and an eyesore. Harry, however, got lucky. No matter how much he loathed the prophecy the first year he knew it, those words gave his life meaning. With his existence, because he was born, there was the possibility of defeating a mass murderer that had haunted the Wizarding World for decades. For Harry, the answer to that question would always be yes, no matter how dark the world grew around him.

Harry swung himself down from the tree. For a moment he wondered if he should talk to the kid when the decision was made for him as the boy shot up to his feet at the sound of footsteps. When the boy did nothing but stare, Harry spoke first.

"Waiting for the sunset?"

The boy snorted. "Yeah right. Only girls watch for stuff like that."

"Is that so," Harry hummed. "I always thought of sunsets as a dramatic background for the ending of a great adventure. Well, if you don't like endings, that'd be a problem. Do you prefer sunrise instead?"

Ace gave Harry a confused glare before scoffing and walking determinedly past the strange man. "I can't believe I'm talking to some sissy about sunsets."

"Hey," Harry protested with mock indignity. "I'm not a sissy!"

The boy gave his robes a pointed look. "So what's with the dress? I bet you're really weak in a fight, too."

Harry looked Ace over in return. He was a skinny child, though not unnaturally so. He was probably just very active, and his many bandages and fresh scratches were proof of the fights his 'Gramps' had gotten upset over. He certainly wasn't a very friendly kid, maybe because the villagers didn't like him much either. Did he have parents?

"That's a bet you'd lose, I'm afraid," Harry teased, "and your failure to recognize that only shows your inexperience in real fights. Not that that's a bad thing – kids aren't supposed to be experienced fighters."

A glare was Harry's only warning before Ace leaped towards him with his fist cocked back behind his head.

An indulgent smile was Ace's only warning before that very fist was grabbed, the wizard literally snatching him from midair with a single step to the side.

Harry placed the boy back onto the ground as the boy tried to swing his legs up onto his arm and chuckled when Ace scurried backwards like a scorpion when his hand was released, glaring all the while at the elder male.

"Pretty quick," Harry complimented, "though you jumped unnecessarily high. Instead of aiming directly at me, you waited to fall back down to the proper height, which delayed your attack," he lectured. "Better luck next time," he added absently, his mind already occupied with plans for a night at an inn before restocking his boat to leave again.

He wasn't missing out on much, since Ace was now grousing about how it wasn't his fault the weird sissy was shorter than his usual opponents.

**A/N: I'm sure many of you are disappointed Harry's officially parted ways with Shanks, but now we have Ace! **

**And of course, Harry will eventually get back to Shanks. He's just not into committed relationships right now.**

**Many thanks to RedValentino for looking over this chapter for me despite her very busy schedule :)**

**230 reviews 4/17/12**


	15. Chapter 13: New Companion

**A/N: Gonna try and get back on track now...**

**Chapter 13: New Companion**

"Haah!"

Harry sighed as the villagers around him shrieked in shock. He C-stepped to the right to dodge the punch at his abdomen and watched with amusement as his attacker flew through the air in front of him like Superman. With careful timing, he raised a leg to lift Ace's passing thighs upwards, flipping the kid's body in a somersault. The boy, having experience with this favored technique of Harry's, rolled with the suddenly change in momentum and managed to land upright on all fours. He twisted around and launched off the floor to throw a kick at the taller male's chest. Harry simply thrust an arm out to grab the leg, then reached out with his other to grab the small hands that tried to claw at the limb entrapping Ace's foot.

"Next time," he lectured, placing the struggling child onto the ground, "don't precede your surprise attacks with a battle cry. You might also have better luck barefoot; I could hear your footsteps thirty seconds before you even tried to throw that first punch."

Ace glared, but he didn't attack again so he might have been listening.

The villagers were gaping at the scene, but Harry ignored them. This was the fifth time Ace tried to attack him in town, so he wasn't sure why they were still so shocked when it happened. He glanced upwards at the midday sun.

"Lunchtime," he announced. "Care to join me?"

Ace continued to glare furiously. This wasn't the first time Harry invited him for a meal after a failed attack. It was very insulting to him, Ace thought, that the prissily dressed guy considered him so low on the threat scale that he'd actually be willing to feed him. But so far, it was true that he'd had little success with his ambushes, and he did always learn a little something to use the next time whenever he hung around Harry long enough, and he was feeling kind of hungry as well…

Seeing Ace hesitate to refuse the offer, the young wizard took it as a positive reply and set the boy on the ground.

"This way, then," Harry said cheerily, pushing Ace lightly from behind in the direction he wished to go in. He avoided the bar, since drunk people tended to say things that triggered the child's ire, but there was a cute family diner in the village he'd grown quite fond of which should be safe enough.

* * *

><p>"You're pretty strong for a kid," Harry commented feeling the strength behind Ace's punch as he caught it in his larger palm. Part of that strength was pure willpower; the boy put his whole body in each attack. As a child with such a small body, it was likely the only way to deal real damage to older opponents.<p>

The rest of that strength was luck and talent. The boy was simply born with good muscle structure.

Ace growled in irritation as he tried to yank his fist out of the older boy's grip and failed.

"Did your grandfather ever train you?"

Ace gave up on pulling his fist and instead darted forward, grabbing Harry's hand and swinging his body forward to deliver a kick at his captor's shoulder in the hopes that the jolt would loosen Harry's hold.

Harry stepped back just as Ace's feet left the ground, ruining the boy's momentum and effectively nullifying the attempted attack.

"Well, I imagine not. You would try the patience of a saint if one ever tried to teach you something," Harry chuckled. "And I doubt your grandfather's a saint."

Ace scowled. "He's not my grandfather. He's just someone who was asked to look over me. He's already got his own grandkid anyhow."

"He asks you to call him Gramps, right?" Harry reminded. "I'm sure he considers you family at least."

Ace didn't reply, but Harry could tell from his averted gaze and stubborn pout that the child didn't believe it. Not for the first time, the wizard wondered just why Ace had such a low self-esteem. It was true he had no close friends in his village, but Ace didn't seem to want any, and it was true he had no idea as to what Ace's home life was like, but there also weren't any nasty rumors being spread in the village about him as anything other than the moody child he was.

"Next time you should ask him to help you out," Harry advised, deciding to move on from the more awkward subject of whether or not the old man from Harry's first day on the island truly considered Ace to be another grandson. "As a marine, I'm sure he's trained in fights," he pointed out, letting go of Ace's hand.

Ace smirked, slightly cockier now that all his body parts were under his control again. "Gramps could knock you back on your scrawny ass."

"Oi!"

* * *

><p>"You're leaving?"<p>

Harry tried to suppress a smile at Ace's expression. It was rare that the boy allowed such a childish look to grace his round face. In the week's time since he first treated Ace to a meal, he's only ever seen him glare or scowl or daze off with a blank expression; never smiles, though sometimes he smirked, and never shock as if he felt it weak to be taken by surprise by anything.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "I've been here almost two weeks now with little purpose but to restock on fresher food. I've no desire to settle down anywhere, let alone here, so now's as good a time as any to move on."

Ace was quiet for a few moments, trailing along behind Harry as the wizard made a few last minute purchases to stash in his boat.

"Take me with you."

Harry halted in his tracks, startled, and looked back at the boy. Ace stood there, fists clenched at his sides, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tense.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, not quite sure he heard correctly.

"Take me with you," Ace repeated, his cheeks suddenly flushing. "Gramps says I'll find out if I should've been born if I keep living, but I don't know what he means by that. I've been alive for nine years now thinking that life's kinda stupid. I mean, I don't get the point. But, yesterday, and the days before, I didn't think life was stupid 'cause I was too busy trying to think of a way to punch you. I want everyday to be like that, until I beat you," he concluded firmly, scowling at Harry as if daring the older boy to make fun of him and his simple dream.

Harry felt as if his mind was stuttering. While the past week had seen his 'relationship' with Ace grow to be more – friendly? – than their initial interactions which had consisted only of frequent failed ambushes, he never imagined Ace would become so attached to their time together.

So the question now, he supposed, is whether or not to say yes.

A part of him immediately wanted to say no. To take a child with him while traveling who knows where? First of all, it was bothersome to have to take care of a – what? Nine, maybe nine and a half, year old boy? Not to mention it would be dangerous for Ace and returning him would be annoying as well. He could apparate back to this village of course, but that would mean flaunting his magic once more to civilians.

But how could he possibly say no when as a child he too wanted nothing more than to be taken away from his 'home' that rated his very existence as less than worthless?

He scowled lightly at this thought. Ace's situation and Harry's situation were different. Sure, the villagers weren't fond of Ace, but that was mostly a result of the boy's belligerent attitude, and every once in a while he received visits from a grandfather figure who loves him. Plus, he always did think it was stupid when people acted in certain ways towards kids because it reminded them of their own pathetic pasts. The past was the past – you can't change it by making some random child your proxy and trying to live your own fantasies through him or her. It isn't good for you, nor is it fair to the kid.

Then again, it wasn't fair to the kid either to deny him just because Harry didn't like the reasons most other people had had in his current situation to take the kid along. He needed his own reasons to be making a decision.

Ace was strong for a child his age – that was true.

Harry was perfectly capable of taking care of a single dependent – that was also true.

If he took Ace along with him, Ace would know about magic. Well, Ace wasn't a blabber mouth, nor an inquisitive mind. He'd take the new abilities into stride without demanding any explanations, Harry was sure. If his grandfather found out, though…

Ha, his grandfather. Harry wondered if his guardians would mind Ace's impromptu decision to leave the island. And whether or not he'd end up with an angry marine pursuit for kidnapping. Haha, of all the crimes Harry had ever been accused of before, kidnapping had never been one of them.

Did he care?

"Meet me at the port before sunset. Pack some clothes," he ordered, and then turned back around to finish his shopping, smiling when he heard the pitter-patter of Ace's footsteps as the boy ran off to prepare. If Ace could pack his things without protest from whatever adults were supposed to be watching over him, then Harry wouldn't put any more thought into the guardianship matter.

* * *

><p>The crude world map Addams had sketched for Harry those months ago was no work of art. Upon a simple scroll of yellowed paper were a few dozen lines, precisely measured out to outline key features of the globe in dried blood. The navigator didn't even bother adding many islands, so to the casual eye, the scroll appeared to hold little more than the cross which Harry knew highlighted the Red Line and the Grand Line. Ace certainly didn't think much of it.<p>

"What's that supposed to be?" he asked scornfully. "Some sort of charm to ward off ghosts?"

Harry's lips quirked as he rolled the map back up to put in his pocket. "You believe in ghosts?"

Ace scowled. Two days ago, he would've denied the existence of supernatural things like ghosts as things little kids are scared of for no reason other than them being pathetic like that. Two days ago, he had yet to witness Harry's _unique_ sailing style (_Ventus!_) or Harry's _efficient_ fishing technique (_Accio!_) or Harry's 'rain song' (_Aguamenti!_) or Harry's oil-less lamp that burned blue in a glass jar. At this point, he wouldn't be terribly surprised if Harry himself was a ghost, let alone deny the idea of ghosts existing.

Harry chuckled. It was terribly fun shocking the child with magic – he understood just a bit more now why wizards enjoyed muggle-baiting so much back home, even if it did lead to fines to pay the obliviators that would need to drop by and erase the damage.

"That was actually a map," Harry explained, standing up in the small boat to glance around them, "drawn by a terribly ambitionless man. If anyone could manage to draw an accurate world map with just his own mind and a pen, Addams could. Pity he lacks the desire."

Ace looked somewhat skeptical, but chose not to comment and asked instead, "So does this mean you know where you want to go now?" They'd been drifting aimlessly for almost three days now and Ace wanted nothing more than an opportunity to stretch his legs beyond the occasional swim next to the boat. He never thought he'd miss something like dry land so much.

"Yep," Harry chirped. "East Blue has been terribly boring so far, so I think I'd like to pop back into the Grand Line – what do you think?"

Ace gaped. "You want to go to the Grand Line, in this?" he snarled, gesturing to their tiny vessel.

"Well, obviously we'd be split to pieces if we tried to go in the conventional manner. I was thinking more along the lines of skipping the sailing completely and popping onto a populated island where we might be able to hitch a ride with some passing ship," the wizard replied, taking in the sail and securing barrels and oars beneath the seats.

"That made no sense whatsoever," Ace pointed out.

"It will," Harry grinned, rearranging his outfit from its current appearance of battle robes to a shirt, trousers, and a cloak. "Now, depending on what happens, we may end up getting involved in some trouble, as it is the Grand Line, after all. I'd really rather you not become a wanted criminal at your age just because I'm a trouble magnet, so we'll have to change your looks for as long as we're there." He reached over and ran his hands through Ace's hair, ignoring the boy's irritated squirming, and lightened the color to a dirty blond. Ace stared at the water over the edge of the boat when he caught a glimpse of his new hair color in the reflection, so shocked that he didn't even react when Harry ran his thumbs over the boy's cheeks and erased his freckles.

"There we go," Harry pronounced. "And I'll call you Jack from now on, alright Jack? Off we go!"

And with a thundering crack, the boat and its two passengers disappeared from East Blue.

* * *

><p>A disgruntled marine slouched over the railing of the crow's nest he occupied, absently twirling his spyglass in his left hand.<p>

"_Why do you even need that_," he spoke mockingly aloud in a wheedling voice. "_Surely you can do better without? _Cheh," he scoffed. "Bunch of idiots," he grumbled, "thinking it's so easy to master the abilities of a Devil Fruit as complex as mine."

He swept his gaze through the glass to view the surrounding waters. "No matter," he continued to himself, adjusting the focus of the spyglass to bring into view the harmless driftwood and birds he found in the distance. "They're all just jealous because they know I'm destined for better waters with a power like this. So what if I was demoted for taking it out of storage without permission? Once I've proved how valuable I am, I'll go much farther up the ladder than any of these morons could ever dream! I'll leave East Blue behind soon enough for fame and riches in the Grand Line!"

His monologue paused when he saw a large piece of driftwood turn out to be a small rowboat instead. Damn. Whoever's there probably needs help, being so far out in open waters on such a small vessel. What a bother.

Unfortunately, the spyglass wasn't strong enough for a good look at the boat's passengers. "Nothing for it," he decided with a smirk.

"_Throw-Sight._"

The marine's vision tunneled rapidly, zooming in further and further until suddenly, he saw _past_ the boat. Quickly, he tried to pull his sight back, but ended up tugging too hard, and he fell on his arse with a groan as the sensation snapped in his eyes. He only caught a glimpse of two passengers. The smaller one was a blur – he could tell it was a child, but not much else. The second was older, and he saw the man had black hair and wore some kind of flowing black outfit.

"_Throw-Hearing._"

"East Blue has b-… boring…-op back into the Grand Line - …"

Again, the words faded in and out of hearing range, but what the marine managed to pick up alarmed him. It certainly wasn't everyday a man sailed in a small boat with a child and talked about going 'back' to the _Grand Line_.

Gripping the railing firmly, he tried once more for a visual.

"_Throw-Sight_."

The child was a blond, and the man had green eyes and was wearing a long black coat despite the warm weather.

The strangeness of said outfit, however, was lost on the marine lookout when the boat disappeared.

Literally.

And though he spent the next ten minutes scanning the seas with both his devil fruit power and spyglass, there was no sign of either human or their ship.

Heh, the marine thought to himself a little helplessly. It was as if they teleported or something.

**A/N: And so Ace joins Harry on his next adventure. A lot of short scenes, I know, but I'm finding that it's easier to start off new 'stories' that way.**

**259 reviews 7/25/12**

**Thanks everyone!**


	16. Chapter 14: Joining Marines

**A/N: I lost my flash drive of most up-to-date writing. I will do my best to keep updating this and Pirate Potter, but Third Time's the Charm will be on hold until I either find it, or stop sulking about losing it.**

**Chapter 14**

**Joining Marines**

"I'm pretty sure this island has a rather large port town," Harry cheerfully explained to Ace, who was glancing around in shock at his new surroundings of trees to the sides and solid earth below. The wizard had apparated them to the very same Grand Line island the Red-Haired Pirates had explored in pursuit of the Rubber Fruit as it was the only island they had landed on during said adventure where people lived.

Leaving the boat and water barrels in favor of stuffing uneaten food into his hidden pockets, Harry was quickly finished with his preparations and hoisted Ace to his feet. "Let's go, Jack. We'll have to find an actual ship willing to take us on if we want to actually explore the Grand Line."

Scowling at his new alias, Ace nevertheless followed along. "Do you have any idea where we're going?" the boy asked skeptically.

"Somewhat," Harry replied with a shrug. "Does it matter? We're on an island. Sooner or later we'll hit the ocean, and then we just have to follow the shoreline until we see docks and ships."

"That's your plan?" Ace exclaimed incredulously. "You have no idea where we are, do you?"

"Oh I know where we are," Harry countered, "since I can't pop to places I don't know, but its true that I've never been to the town this island is supposed to have, so knowing where I am isn't very helpful."

"Well then, how do you know this place if you've never been to the port and you can't – _pop_ places you don't know?"

"I came here with pirates, of course," Harry chirped cheerily, going so far as to jump over a fallen tree in demonstration of his high spirits. He had a pretty good time with Shanks and his crew, the memory of their adventure almost as fond as those of his Hogwarts times, though with a very different sense of camaraderie.

All the pirates were independently strong, likely gathered together by their captain, Shanks, who followed rumors of strong outlaws to recruit them all. At Hogwarts, students depended on each other to be strong and make a difference. It was a bit of a disadvantage when they were forced to separate, but because they gained their strengths and weaknesses together, they knew how to maximize the former and cover the latter. Harry would always hold a special fondness for first year, where Ron, Hermione, and he overcame the protections of the Philosopher's Stone with such perfect synchronicity despite the fact they'd each had less than a year's worth of training in magic. Perhaps it was lucky the pirates weren't like that as otherwise he wouldn't have been able to join in so easily, but he wondered if the pirates would ever achieve that same 'tight-knit' feel. Well, perhaps they wouldn't ever need it, as strong as they already are as individuals.

"Pirates can't dock at the port," Harry continued, shaking his head from his sidetracked thoughts, "so I never saw it, but we came ashore at an abandoned beach for almost a full day, so I'm familiar with the jungle area at least."

"If you know where the beach is, why couldn't you have popped us there so we wouldn't have to blindly search for the shoreline from here?" Ace pointed out, climbing over obstacles more sedately, lacking Harry's willingness to be enthusiastic over their current situation.

"I was kind of hoping that if I popped as far inland as I know and then walk in the opposite direction of the beach the pirates landed at, we'd arrive at the port town sooner. No guarantees though - we might end up walking until tomorrow. Have an apple?"

Ace accepted the fruit sullenly. Biting into the food, he chewed thoughtfully while eyeing his... guide? Whatever. Putting aside the issue of what kind of relationship they were sharing, Ace was fascinated by the older boy. He was, quite frankly, an impossibility. However, being the son of Gol. D. Roger, Ace was well aware of the possibility - and even high probability - of impossible people. So no matter how fascinating Harry was, it wouldn't save him in the end. Ace tagged along on this crazy trip for a reason after all.

Harry was going down.

* * *

><p>"We're in luck!" Harry exclaimed, wrapping an arm around Ace's waist and swinging him up to his shoulder. "Would you look at that? A ship that big has gotta be a Grand Line adventurer!"<p>

Ace teetered a bit from the sudden movement, but eventually steadied himself to sit on the taller boy's shoulder. If it were anyone else, he'd punch the person out of spite for treating him like a child this way, but after half a dozen failed ambushes followed by half a dozen actions to calmly neutralize the attacks usually involving swinging Ace air-born, he was rather resigned to the idea of being manhandled until he was strong enough to successful beat Harry up. Not to mention, he was feeling a bit tired of walking. So instead of responding violently, he looked up ahead where Harry was gesturing before giving the wizard's hair a sharp tug.

"That's a marine ship."

"Neat, huh? If we can find a way for them to let us on board, it'll probably be more comfortable than hitching a ride with a merchant or pirate."

"Aren't you a pirate?" Ace asked with confusion. "I don't think pirates are supposed to ask for rides from marines. I know Gramps would kill you."

"Your gramps would kill me for kidnapping you," Harry pointed out wryly, as he started to walk into the town. "But as far as I know, I don't have a wanted poster yet. The stint with the pirates was a temporary thing, and while a few marines saw my face, no one took pictures. Worst comes to worst, we pop out of there and try again later with some other ship."

It was midday and people were milling in the streets for lunch. Here and there one could see a splash of blue-outlining white where the marines mingled with the civilians. Scanning the ones whose faces he could see, Harry careful picked and chose his way through the selection before finally finding one who's perfect posture looked natural and gaze was held with self-assurance. Chances were, this man held a higher ranking than the others, despite the fact that his clothing bore no additional insignia. It helped, of course, that he exuded a very light aura of haki. The man was skilled enough to consistently use the Color of Observation with a much wider range than Shanks.

"Excuse me," Harry greeted, approaching the taller man as he left a food stand with a skewer of, well, he wasn't sure what. They were whitish balls that looked lightly fried before rolled in a sauce slightly more orange and glossy than steak sauce, dotted with flakes of… something.

"Yes?" the marine answered, before using his teeth to fluidly slide one of the balls off the skewer and neatly into his mouth. For a moment, Harry was impressed he could eat such a large food item in one bite, but quickly abandoned that train of thought before it could slide off the tracks and into a gutter.

"Is that your ship at the docks?" he asked, going straight for the point. Harry didn't want to give the impression that he was a bush beater. Outlaws like pirates and underground mercenaries could appreciate a good game of 'hear what I mean, not what I say," but both aurors and muggle policemen like people who are straightforward and were naturally suspicious of those who used too much small talk or teasing when it was clear they already had other intentions in mind. The wizard was currently betting on the idea that marines fell under that same category.

"Well, it's not mine, per say," the marine chuckled, chewing thoughtfully, "though yes, I am part of that ship's crew. Have you interest in the going-abouts of marines?"

"The going-abouts of ships," Harry corrected. "Jack and I," he gestured towards the boy on his shoulder, "don't wish to stick around this island and were hoping a passing ship might be willing to take us on for a fee. Do you know if the captain of that ship might be willing to discuss the matter with me?"

The marine took a moment to weigh their story carefully. It was scarce with details, but the simple fact that they had approached a marine with it made it rather more likely that the unspoken issues – such as how they 'arrived' here in the first place and why a man who looked no older than twenty-five was traveling with a boy of at least eight years – would be interpreted as of an uncomfortably sad background instead of a dodgy one.

In the end, the marine simply swallowed his bite of food and replied, "Probably. As far as I can tell, we were gathered together to be a temporary investigative team, with little risk of too much battling. The captain might be willing to take on a civilian if you can prove you can take of yourself."

"Wonderful!" Harry grinned, then reach out a hand. "I'm Harry, by the way."

"Petty Officer Logan, at your service," the marine replied, shaking the offered hand.

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly in skepticism of the given low rank, but quickly slid his gaze to the skewer of food. "What is that?" he asked.

Ace bopped him over the head. "It's takoyaki, idiot."

Harry rolled the term a few times in his head before it translated properly into 'fried octopus,' triggering a few memories from his wanderlust days. "Oh, huh, the only times I've seen it before they put it on a plate with toothpicks. Is it any good?"

The marine nodded with his brown hair bobbing up and down at the motion, his mouth full, so Harry went up to the street vendor, patting his pockets for his wallet. "Two sticks, please," Harry ordered, paying the happy cook before passing up a stick to Ace and taking one for himself.

"So where can I find that captain of yours?" Harry asked when he walked back to Logan.

"He's still at the docks," Logan informed. "I can introduce you guys if you'd like," he offered, polishing off the last octopus ball before tossing the stick into a trash bin across the street.

"That would be helpful, thanks," Harry accepted, before finally starting on his food. He too slipped an entire ball into his mouth before biting down. "Hmm, not bad," he muttered around his full cheeks. "So anyway, where are you guys heading to?"

Logan shrugged. "We haven't been told yet. This was our first stop, but so far there haven't been any rumors of interest, so who knows where we'll be heading off to next? You'll have to ask him when we get there."

"Rumors?" Harry queried. "What kind of rumors?"

"Pirate activity? Supernatural events? Strange strangers? The usual stuff, I guess," the marine listed, "though apparently we're to keep an especially keen ear open for talk of a Devil Fruit user who can teleport."

"Devil fruit?" Harry questioned, somewhat amused by this turn of events. To think he'd bumped into a team thrown together for the purpose of finding him. He supposed it was only logical that they'd label his magic a Devil Fruit ability, but Harry felt a bit sorry for them. Devil fruits had limitations his magic does not, and the darling little marines had no clue what they were really dealing with. It has been awhile since he was so clearly underestimated. Back home, any one of his titles gave his opponents a clear understanding of his power.

"Have you not heard of them yet? I guess this early in the Grand Line, there are still some who haven't seen one in action."

"Oh I know what Devil Fruit are," Harry reassured. "I was just surprised the marines did this sort of thing. Are you trying to recruit him, or perhaps he's a criminal?"

"Criminal," Logan confirmed. "Apparently he fought alongside the Red-Haired Pirates not too long ago and killed several marines while at it. He doesn't seem to be part of the crew, and as of yet, we haven't labeled him a pirate, but he's definitely a murderer with a very dangerous ability. It's only fair to warn you now; while I highly doubt it'll come to it, there is the possibility that the man we're looking for will catch wind of us and attack. He might not differentiate between us marines and you who just happen to be hitching a ride. Are you sure you still want to come?"

"Definitely," Harry said, trying to make his amusement look like carefree naivety or something equally as innocent, rather than the glee he was actually feeling at the irony of being warned about the possibility of him attacking himself.

The marine gave a concerned look towards Ace, but chose not to say anything about the risks to the child as they were quickly approaching the docks.

"Ah, Commander!" he called out to a tall and muscular man who was sitting stiffly on a bench with a map spread out over his lap. Stopping a few feet away, Logan snapped into a salute.

"At ease," the man quickly said in a gruff voice, sounding somewhat uncomfortable.

That's interesting, Harry thought to himself, but didn't get the chance to start any wild theorizing as Logan pulled him and Ace forward.

"This is Harry and Jack, sir. They wanted to talk to you about the possibility of boarding our ship, sir."

The Commander looked at the introduced duo with a raised eyebrow while Harry tried not to twitch at the sight.

"We're an investigative team," the marine finally said, "with no final destination and a risk of attack from both our target and chanced upon pirates. We're a marine ship with a tightly run routine of early mornings, simplistic rations for meals, and chores for everyone. With these issues in mind, I must ask you to explain why you wish to board this ship?"

Harry's mind spun around a few circles before finally settling on taking advantage of Ace's presence to allude to vague reasons which cannot be spoken aloud. He couldn't very well say that they were simply hoping for some fun – it was highly doubtful the marines would be indulgent of such flippant behavior, but there were plenty of other reasons out there for a man to not care about a destination other than 'not here,' many of them very capable of evoking a sense of sympathy.

"It has been awhile since the last time I set foot on this island, but I never really intended on returning." Here, Harry reached a hand up to grasp Ace's leg while flicking his eyes up towards the child followed by a pleading expression towards the marine. "I wish to leave as soon as possible and, well," Harry quickly lit up his face as if he is forcing a happy smile through painful emotions, "I've been promising Jack an adventure for awhile now!" He grinned up at Ace and allowed the expression to falter as Ace scowled down at him. "Er, yes, well, so having no destination in mind is fine," he assured, adding with a soft whisper, "as long as it's not here.

"And," he continued with his louder, brighter tone of voice, "I can hold my own in troublesome situations, and I don't mind chores or early mornings or simple meals, as long as you don't mind if I allow Jack to run around a bit. He's a very active child. I'll pay for room and board, of course, and, er, yes, well…" He trailed off awkwardly and tried to decide if pretending to fidget would be overdoing it or not.

"Well, how about you take a look at what you're signing yourself up for before we make any final decisions, hmm?" the Commander replied gruffly, but not dismissively, so Harry grinned and replied with an enthusiastic agreement to that idea.

The pair of marines led the way to a far extended dock, at the end of which floated the large marine ship. It was smaller than Shanks', likely because it wasn't a battleship, but it was definitely large enough to handle the Grand Line's temperamental weather. The wizard was feeling a little giddy at the sight of his next home.

**A/N: We are moving along, I hope...**

**287 reviews, 10/14/12**

**Thanks everyone!**


	17. Chapter 15: Handling Lies

**A/N: Its a bit short, but there'll be an action scene next chapter to look forward to :)**

**Chapter 15**

**Handling Lies**

Ace tentatively poked his head over the edge of the sleeping cabin. Right there was Harry, swabbing the deck with a bucket and mop while singing a song in an indecipherable language. If he took a leap off this roof towards the older boy, he should be able to make it to tackle Harry around the chest area, which should be enough to knock him off balance, if not completely tumble him to the ground. The wet floor would be to his advantage in this scenario, and any follow-up attacks would be made depending on Harry's reaction.

With a resolute nod, Ace tensed up, then pushed off to launch at his target. At first, everything went as planned. Harry was somehow able to notice his approaching tackle but had no time to dodge, so Ace managed to hit him right in the chest with both palms. The floor being slippery, Harry actually started falling backwards, but instead of landing on his back, open for Ace to punch him, the wizard _back-rolled_ with the momentum until he came back once more to his feet, one hand grabbing Ace's shoulder to shove the boy down to the ground.

When all was said and done, Harry was crouching steadily on his two feet, looming over a scowling Ace who was pinned by the shoulder to lie on his back against the damp wooden deck.

"Nice one," Harry complimented. "In the future, though, try a more damaging initial attack. Shoving me to the ground is great and all, but if you had punched me in the chin or head-butted my stomach, I would've had much less control over my response to your ambush."

"Hey now," a passing marine called out, "leave the roughhousing for after you finish with your chores."

"Righto!" Harry replied with a cheeky salute. He pulled Ace up and went to pick up his mop that he had dropped.

Ace stood there for a moment, just watching, before talking when it was pretty clear that all the marines were busy with duties elsewhere. "I can't believe they let us on."

"And why is that?" Harry asked with an amused smile as he wet the mop in his bucket.

"You hardly told that marine officer anything, yesterday" Ace pointed out. "What exactly did you end up saying – that you hadn't been there on that island for a long time, that you wanted to leave again soon, and that you don't care about the trouble or risks of being on a marine ship? I think it's stupid that they let you on with just that – I mean, it's not like you ever ended up giving them a reason to think _you_ aren't a risk."

Harry chuckled. "It depends on a person's perspective. For one, they don't know what I can do like you do, so while we may find it incredibly ironic that they'd trust me out of all people, you have to ignore that to understand their point of view.

"For another, as adults, we are more likely to draw our own conclusions from really vague details. I'm a twenty-some year old male traveling alone with a nine year old child. I also apparently have bad memories associated with an island I haven't been on in awhile and you don't particularly like me despite my efforts to appease you with promises of adventures. I'm sure they've decided that we're a father-son pair, and I dislike this island because it's where your mother died of childbirth, and you and I have issues connecting because of the bad emotions resulting from her death compounded by my age being too young for a proper father."

Ace's eyes grew wide with shock for a moment as he tried to process that story. "I'm not going to start calling you Dad," he finally said, firmly.

"There's no need to," Harry assured, rubbing his mop roughly against a crack in the planks to try and dissolve the dirt caked there. "They'll just assume something else. Like maybe, your mother didn't die of childbirth, but I fled because I didn't want to handle the responsibility of being a teenage father. When I came back, I found out your mother died and took you in, only either I didn't tell you of my relation to you out of shame, or I did but you refused to accept it because you hate me for my absence up until now. Or if they prefer to consider me the good guy in the soap opera, maybe they'll think that my true love cheated on me long ago so I left, heartbroken, only to return and find an orphaned you. I'm not your father, but in memory of my true love, I decide to take care of you rather than leave you in the streets. And of course, there will always be the more practical people who decide that we're just brothers with a really large age gap. Our parents died recently so I decided we need a change of scenery while you're upset that I'm running away from home and dragging you along.

"There's no limit to the possibilities, and in the end, it's better to keep our stories vague. For one, it's suspicious to be too willing to tell detailed stories of our tragic past. For another, the more details we confirm, the more fake information we have to keep track of. Also, people love good gossip. The vaguer we are, the more stories people can come up with and share and compare and argue over. And really, the more stories that float out there, the less likely they are to catch us in contradictions, because they'll just assume they heard a faulty rumor before."

Ace was silent for a long time, and Harry was starting to feel a little embarrassed for saying so much. Really, he should know better than to ramble so much to a nine year old boy about the intricacies of a good lie.

"Harry," Ace finally said while the man wringed dried his mop, ready to go put his equipment away.

"Yeah, Jack?"

"What's a soap opera?"

* * *

><p>"Teleporting Devil Fruit ability, right? We're pretty sure it was that guy from the report, sir. He was in East Blue just a few hours ago, saying something about heading back to the Grand Line.<p>

"Yes sir.

"Yes sir, he did. One second he was there and the next the ocean was clear as anything. Sir, permission to offer a suggestion? There was a kid with him sir, and he moved both of them together. They seemed pretty close. Surely it would be easier to catch a child than a teleporter?

"Yes sir.

"No sir, sorry sir.

"Of course sir, right away."

The marine hung up his den den mushi with a huff in disgust. Those goody-two shoes commissioned officers. First they demote him to a position in East Blue for gaining a Devil Fruit power without permission – because apparently they had originally planned to give it to someone else – and now they rebuke him for offering up an easy catch. Who cared if the boy only looked to be about eight years old – he was traveling with a felon!

A dangerous felon. A felon who would probably earn him several promotions, because really, who knew what he was doing out there with his deadly knives right this minute?

* * *

><p>"Working hard there, Harry?"<p>

Harry smiled over the pile of potatoes he was peeling. "Officer Logan," Harry greeted. "I'm not sure how 'hard' I can work when it's just me, a knife, and a mountain of potatoes. It's mostly just tedious."

"Well, you seem to be rather efficient at it," Logan observed, glancing at the large bowl that was filling up with peeled potatoes despite the early hour, "although, weren't you swabbing the deck a few days ago?"

Harry nodded. "That was the first day when we left the port," Harry clarified. "Since then, I've done a day of canon polishing, two days of dishwashing, and this is my third day with the potatoes. I'm starting to think I just take over the chores of whichever marine is lucky enough to greet me first each morning," Harry joked. Interestingly enough, Harry actually wasn't sure about how true it was. The marine that assigned him the day's chores did change quite often, but the alternating didn't always match up with a new set of chores. Perhaps the marines were on some sort of rotation?

"Hah, I wouldn't be surprised if that were true," Logan grinned. "We all like a day or two's break from the tedium of chores, but if it ever seems like someone in particular is asking too often, you should probably clear things up with the Commander. You're already paying us for room and board; it seems rather greedy to expect you to do so much around the ship as well."

Harry shrugged, tossing another peeled potato into the bowl. "I don't mind, though I hope there aren't too many more days of potato duty. Jack ambushed me yesterday and I nearly cut him before I remembered I had a knife in my hand."

Logan nodded, his brow furrowed at this information. "Come on then, take a break," he offered. "Maybe give Jack another chance at you unarmed. Those potatoes can wait. Our chef only ever uses them for dinner, and you're much faster than the men."

Harry easily agreed. Peeling potatoes really was a very mind-numbing chore, and he was also rather curious about Logan.

No matter how Harry thought about it, he simply couldn't understand how the man was just a Petty Officer. Even ignoring the Haki he exuded constantly, the man demonstrated many characteristics of a strong fighter and good leader. His footsteps, for one, were always even, steady, which spoke of instinctual control over his body. His eyes, for another, were always alert, never glazed over too far in thought or daydream, which spoke of his sense of responsibility over having self-awareness of his surroundings. It was possible that he was new to the marines and so hadn't had a chance to be promoted yet, but then where had he picked up such nuances in the first place?

"So other than your fluctuating responsibilities, how is life on a marine ship treating you?" Logan inquired as they walked out onto the deck.

Harry took a moment to be amused. Even the man's speech held a tiny bit too much formality and command for a foot soldier, though he supposed that could very well be due to a formal education during his youth.

"Surprisingly boring, actually," Harry admitted. "I understand that I'm not here for an adventure," _or at least_, Harry added mentally, _I'm not going to admit to any such thing_, "but I was expecting something to happen after a week at sea. I haven't even seen any of that famous Grand Line weather patterns yet."

"Don't jinx it," Logan warned teasingly. "When an actual storm strikes, you'll be kicking yourself for taking these past few days for granted," he said as he gestured out over the ship's railing towards the calm horizon. "As for the other adventurous activities you've probably been watching out for, I wouldn't hold my breath. Most days as a marine are actually a lot more boring than the average civilian supposes. The seas are simply too big for us to end up in combat with criminals every other day."

Harry nodded. "I suppose that makes sense. And really, I don't want Jack in the middle of a battle any time soon," he conceded.

"Speaking of, Jack seems pretty determined to make your days about more than just chores. I've seen a few of those attacks. He's kind of a street brawler type, but your movements to neutralize him are pretty smooth. Have you had formal training?"

"Some self-defense, yeah," Harry admitted. "Mostly unarmed combat," he added, deciding not to mention his expertise with knives. Not only did it not fit his image as a civilian, it might raise problems later to be seen using the same attack style as the criminal teleporter the whole ship of marines was currently trying to hunt down.

Logan nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I have my own duties I should be returning to," the marine finally said as they finished their round of the deck.

"And I have potatoes waiting for me," Harry added on with a smile.

Logan gave a casual wave as Harry stepped towards the kitchen doorway.

"When you're done, I'll stop by again. We should spar."

It was lucky the marine didn't look back after his offer. Harry couldn't quite stop himself abruptly halting his steps to stare at the leaving man in surprise and a hint of panic.

**A/N: bum-bum-bum!**

**326 reviews 2/27/13**

**Thanks everyone :)**


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